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Spring  1970  /  85  ce)its 


UNIVERSITY  OF  TORONTO 


Sketched  at  right  and  at 
the  right  above  is  the 
building  that  should  be 
ready  for  the  School  of 
Library  Science  late  this 
year.  (See  page  61.) 

Sometime  in  1972  is  the 
target  for  completing  the 
triangular  Humanities  and 
Social  Sciences  Research 
Library  and  the  smaller 
library  for  rare  books. 


Toward  Community 


in 


I 


Report  of  The  Commission  on  the 
Government  of  the  University  of  Toronto 


University  Government 


As  students  and  faculty  at  the  University  of  Toronto  call  for  a  greater 
role  in  policy-making,  this  report  introduces  responsible,  concrete 
proposals  for  change  into  the  debate.  At  the  heart  of  the  report  is  the 
belief  that  students  and  faculty  must  be  involved  at  every  level  of 
decision-making,  in  general  on  a  basis  of  parity.  Its  recommendations 
are  the  basis  for  a  continuing  and  lively  debate  at  the  University  of 
Toronto.  $4.95 


University  of  Toronto  Press 


Incorporating  University  of  Toronto  Monthly  est.  1900 
and  Varsity  Graduate  est.  1948.  Volume  III  Number  2 


VARSITY  BLUES  ARE  WINNERS 

ON  AND  OFF  THE  ICE  .  3 

Jim  Crerar 

HART  HOUSE  REDEDICATED  11 

Northrop  Frye 

HART  HOUSE  IS  FIFTY  .  15 

Robert  Lansdales  photographs 

HOW  CAN  YOU  MAKE  SURE 

YOU  SUFFER  ENOUGH?  .  25 

Margaret  Laurence 
Robertson  Davies 

TAKE  67  APPROACHES  TO  HISTORY, 

CULTURE  AND  LIFE  OF  ISLAM  30 

PHILOSOPHERS’  WALK 

A  SERMON  ON  HUMOUR  .  34 

Stephen  Leacock 

GOBLIN’S  EDITOR  ADDS  A  FOOTNOTE  37 

James  A.  Cowan 

THE  EGYPTIAN  POWER  ELITE  .  39 

R.  H.  Dekmejian 

UNIVERSITIES  IN  ISRAEL  .  46 

Benjamin  Schlesinger 


BIRTH  OF  A  TRYSTING  PLACE  .  49 


This  is  the  third  time  in  recent 
years  that  we  have  been  privi¬ 
leged  to  publish  an  article  by 
Dean  Sirluck.  We  regret  there 
have  not  been  more.  In  July  he 
goes  to  University  of  Manitoba 
where  he  will  be  President. 


THE  CHANGING  UNIVERSITY  SCENE  52 

Ernest  Sirluck 


In  this  sketch  of  the  south  entrance 
planned  for  the  Humanities  and 
Social  Sciences  Research  Library, 
the  Rare  Books  Library  is  seen  on 
the  left.  Stone  &  Webster  Canada 
Limited  are  project  managers  for 
whole  complex.  Architects:  Mathers 
and  Haldenby.  The  design  consul¬ 
tants  are  Warner  Burns  Toan  Lunde. 
Contractor  Consortium:  Cape/Ryco. 

University  of  Toronto  Graduate 
is  published  three  times  annually  by 
Department  of  Information,  Simcoe 
Hall,  University  of  Toronto,  Toronto 
181.  Printed  at  the  University  of 
Toronto  Press.  Postage  paid  in  cash 
at  Third  Class  rates.  Permit  No. 
C-50.  Subscription  price  $2  a  year, 
$5  for  three  years. 

Kenneth  S.  Edey,  the  Editor  of  the 
Graduate ,  is  director  of  the  Univer¬ 
sity’s  Department  of  Information. 
The  other  staff  members  of  the 
department  are  Lawrence  F.  Jones, 
the  assistant  director;  Leonard 
Bertin,  science  editor;  Mrs.  Wino- 
gene  Ferguson,  information  officer, 
and  Miss  Mia  Benninga,  production 
supervisor. 

Photographs  not  otherwise  credited 
are  by  Robert  Lansdale  ( telephone 
621-8788). 

Other  periodicals  published  by  the 
Department  of  Information  are  the 
U  of  T  News,  in  December,  February 
and  May  for  graduates  and  former 
students;  and  U  of  T  Bulletin,  thirty 
or  more  issues  each  year. 


A  HOME  FOR  LIBRARY  SCIENCE 

Brian  Land 

EXPLORATIONS 

Marshall  McLuhans  magazine 


61  Requests  for  rate  cards  and  other 
information  about  advertising  should 
be  addressed  to  the  advertising  rep¬ 
resentative,  Department  of  Infor- 
g5  mation,  Simcoe  Hall,  University  of 
Toronto,  Toronto  181.  (Telephone 
928-2105). 


1 


This  photograph  of  some  tired  but  still  ebullient  hockey  players  was  taken  just 
after  Varsity  Blues  beat  out  University  of  Waterloo  for  the  OQAA  championship 
and  the  Queen’s  Cup  in  February.  (Dr.  K.  D.  Fryer,  Waterloo’s  representative  to 
the  OQAA,  is  seen  presenting  the  trophy  to  Brian  St.  John  on  the  facing  page.) 

Front  row  from  left:  Paul  Laurent,  Law  III;  Terry  Peterman,  Law  II;  Terry 
Parsons,  Engineering  III;  Brian  St.  John,  Victoria  College  III,  Captain;  Bryan 
Tompson,  Postgrad  Dentistry. 

Second  row  from  left:  Mike  Boland,  St.  Michael’s  College  II;  John  Wright, 
Physical  &  Health  Education  II;  Bob  McGuinn,  SGS  (Master  of  Business  Adminis¬ 
tration);  Nick  Holmes,  Scarborough  College  I;  Bob  Hamilton,  College  of  Education; 
Bill  L’Heureux,  Law  II;  Dave  McDowall,  Physical  &  Health  Education  II;  Grant 
Cole,  Erindale  College  I,  Goal;  Len  Burman,  St.  Michael’s  College  III;  David 
Field,  SGS  (Master  of  Science,  Physiology);  Bill  Buba,  St.  Michael’s  College  I. 


2 


university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


Varsity  Blues  are  winners 
on  and  off  the  ice 

Jim  Crerar 


One  look  at  the  record  and  you  might  suspect  they’ve 
turned  University  of  Toronto  into  a  hockey  factory. 
How  else  could  Varsity  Blues  have  finished  first  in 
the  Ontario-Quebec  Athletic  Association  13  of  the  last  16 
seasons,  placing  second  in  the  other  three,  taking  the  playoff 
championship  12  times? 

How  else  could  they  have  made  it  to  the  Canadian 
Intercollegiate  Athletic  Union  finals  five  years  in  a  row, 
winning  four  times  including  this  year? 


Jim  Crerar  is  a  member  of  the  Toronto  Star  sports  staff 


April  1970 


3 


How  else  in  that  16-year  span 
could  they  have  won  172  games,  tied 
nine,  and  lost  only  36  in  league  play? 

From  all  of  this  have  you  gathered 
that  the  only  shrine  of  learning  left  on 
the  campus  is  Varsity  Arena,  where 
coach  Tom  Watt  dictates  academic 
policy  with  a  whip  in  one  hand  and  a 
whistle  in  the  other? 

If  so,  give  yourself  a  big,  fat  “F”. 
You  just  flunked  out  —  something  no 
U  of  T  hockey  player  has  done  in  the 
five  years  Watt  has  coached  the  team. 

Watt,  of  course,  doesn’t  call  the 
shots  in  the  classroom.  When  it  comes 
to  entrance  requirements,  Bobby  Orr 


himself  would  be  as  much  at  the 
mercy  of  the  registrar’s  office  as  the 
most  tangle-footed  high  school  grad. 

All  the  coach  can  do  when  he  spots 
a  prospect  is  try  to  sell  him  on  the 
idea  that  he  can  get  a  wide  variety 
of  academic  courses  at  U  of  T,  with  a 
chance  to  play  for  the  most  successful 
college  hockey  team  in  history. 

He  can’t  hold  out  any  financial 
inducements  —  athletic  scholarships 
are  taboo  at  Toronto  —  and  Watt 
doesn’t  want  them  anyway.  He  feels 
they’re  a  threat  to  team  morale. 

“Before  he’s  accepted  here,  a  boy 
must  have  a  good  academic  record,” 


4 


university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


in-, . L' .‘jNyito 


In  goal  for  1970  champions,  Grant  Cole 
finds  life  earnest  and  sometimes  grim . 

he  pointed  out.  “We  also  have  a 
league  rule  that  he  must  pass  his  year 
to  keep  his  hockey  eligibility. 

“We  haven’t  lost  a  boy  yet.” 

“I  think  one  of  the  roles  of  athletics 
at  the  University  of  Toronto  is  to 
provide  an  outlet  where  good  athletes 
can  get  top  competition  at  the  inter¬ 
collegiate  level,”  he  said.  “But  they’re 
here  as  students  first  and  athletes 
second.” 

The  players  have  backed  Watt  to 
the  hilt  in  the  classroom  as  well  as 
on  the  ice. 


April  1970 


5 


Take  the  case  of  Bob  McClelland, 
a  winger  who  was  fifth  in  league 
scoring  in  1968-69.  McClelland  gradu¬ 
ated  from  U  of  T  with  a  Ph.D.  in 
chemistry  last  spring  and  now  is 
studying  on  a  fellowship  at  York 
University  in  England. 

Captains  show  the  way 
Or  how  about  Paul  Laurent?  He 
was  the  leading  scorer  for  Toronto 
Marlboros  in  the  Junior  A  Ontario 
Hockey  Association  in  1964-65  be¬ 
fore  enrolling  at  Toronto.  More  to  the 
point,  he  was  an  Ontario  Scholar  in 
grade  13,  averaging  over  80  per  cent. 

Then  there  is  Brian  St.  John,  Var¬ 
sity  team  captain  this  season.  St.  John, 


a  centre,  was  a  high  draft  choice  of 
Boston  Bruins  two  years  ago.  Most 
players  would  jump  at  a  chance  in 
the  National  Hockey  League,  but  St. 
John  isn’t  so  sure.  He  graduates  this 
year  in  science  and  is  thinking  of 
staying  on  for  post-graduate  work. 

Watt  has  had  one  player  go  to  the 
NHL  —  Henry  Monteith  with  Detroit 
Red  Wings. 

“He  won  the  prize  for  accounting 
in  his  graduating  year  in  commerce 
and  finance,”  Watt  chuckled.  “I’d 
love  to  see  the  way  he  handles  his 
contract  negotiations  with  Detroit.” 

The  academic  record  of  the  players 
helps  explain  Blues’  success  over  the 


V.V.V.V.V.V.V 


I 


i 


•S:: 


NESBITT, 

THOMSON 

AND  COMPANY,  LIMITED 

INVESTMENTS 


Offices  in  principal  Canadian  cities, 
New  York  and  London 

Company  and/or  affiliate  companies 
members  of 

leading  Canadian  stock  exchanges, 
The  Midwest  and 
New  York  Stock  Exchanges 


xvXvxy.v 

ii 

M 

I 

i 

§ 


Si:- 

Xv 

:S: 


8 


i 

•;£ 

Xv 

;.v. 


.1 


6 


Architects  —  Mathers  &  Haldenby 

Design  Consultants  —  Warner  Burns  T oan  Lunde 

General  Contractor  Consortium  —  Cape  /  Ryco 


U  of  T  LIBRARY  COMPLEX  TO  BE 
ONE  OF  WORLD  S  FINEST 


The  Humanities  and  Social  Sciences 
Research  Library  and  The  School  of  Library 
Science,  now  well  under  construction,  will 
provide  University  of  Toronto  with  one  of  the 
most  complete  library  complexes  in  the 
world 

Illustrated  above  is  one  of  the  two  main 
street  level  entrances.  At  right,  a  model  of 
the  14  storey  building  which  will  provide 
more  than  a  million  square  feet  of  floor 
space  to  serve  a  daily  library-population 
of  over  5,000. 


Project  Managers 

^  STONE  &  WEBSTER 

CANADA  LIMITED 

60  ADELAIDE  STREET  EAST.  TORONTO  1 


years.  They’ve  been  blessed  with  boys 
having  both  brains  and  brawn. 

They’ve  been  blessed,  too,  with 
excellent  coaches.  Watt  is  the  third 
in  that  16-year  dynasty  that  began  in 
1954  with  Jack  Kennedy,  now  athletic 
director  of  McMaster  University  in 
Hamilton.  Under  Kennedy,  Blues’ 
over-all  record  was  102  wins,  59  losses 
and  eight  ties,  good  for  six  champion¬ 
ships,  five  of  them  in  a  row. 

Kennedy  was  replaced  by  Joe  Kane 
in  1962-63  and  in  the  next  three 
seasons  his  teams  won  42  over-all 
while  losing  13,  tying  three  and  add¬ 
ing  another  league  title. 

Kane,  who  later  became  president 
of  the  Central  Hockey  League,  was 
succeeded  in  1965  by  Watt,  a  34- 
year-old  physical  education  graduate 
from  U  of  T  (1959)  who  completed 
a  masters’  degree  in  education  at  To¬ 
ronto  a  year  ago.  He’s  masterminded 
Blues  to  a  perfect  record  in  league 
championships  —  five-for-five  —  with 
an  unbelievable  league  record  of  67 
wins  against  six  losses  and  six  ties. 

Watt  has  several  additional  explana¬ 
tions  for  Blues’  amazing  success. 


“First,  we’re  a  big  university,”  he 
said.  “There  are  somewhere  around 
25,000  students  on  the  campus,  so 
there  should  be  some  good  hockey 
players  in  that  group. 

“Second,  we  have  our  own  arena. 
We  can  skate  every  day  unlike  other 
schools  that  must  rent  their  ice.”  It 
was  no  accident,  he  added,  that  all 
five  teams  in  this  year’s  Canadian 
championships  at  Charlottetown  — 
Varsity,  York,  Alberta,  St.  Mary’s  and 
Loyola  —  have  their  own  rinks. 

“Third,”  Watt  continued,  “there  is 
a  tradition  at  Toronto  for  good  hockey 
teams.” 

The  student  body  and  the  public 
respond  accordingly. 

“Our  arena  seats  4,800,”  Watt  said, 
“and  I’d  say  we  average  between 
3,500  and  4,000  a  game.  For  big 
games,  we  fill  the  place.” 

And  why  not?  When  you’ve  got  the 
Blues  blasting  away  at  the  opposition 
down  on  the  ice  and  the  Lady  Godiva 
Memorial  Band  blasting  away  on  the 
12th  Street  Rag  up  there  in  the 
rafters,  there’s  no  way  you  can  lose 
at  the  box  office. 


8 


Once  you  saw  it .  .  .  now  you  don't,  because 

Stelco  is  turned  on! 


Nearly  eight-million-dollars-worth  of  equipment 
on  Stelco's  open  hearth  furnaces  is  now  "turned 
on"  to  prevent  air  contamination.  This  equip¬ 
ment  is  99%  effective. 

In  other  areas  of  quality  control  of  air,  Stelco 
has  installed  — 

•  Electrostatic  precipitators  on  all  blast 
furnaces. 

•  Dust  collection  equipment  on  the  sinter  plant. 

•  A  smokeless  charging  car  forthe  coke  ovens. 
In  the  drive  to  eliminate  water  impurities,  Stelco 
has  installed  — 

•  A  phenol  recovery  plant  for  the  coke  ovens. 


•  Various  oil  recovery  and  acid  disposal 
systems. 

•  Various  closed  water-recirculation  systems. 

•  An  acid  regeneration  system  for  re-use  of 
waste  acid. 

Total  expenditures  since  1953  amount  to 
over  $17,000,000. 

Stelco's  policy  is  now  well  established.  The 
company  will  accept  the  very  large  expenditures 
involved  in  solving  existing  problems;  and  by 
including  control  devices  in  the  original  engineer¬ 
ing  for  future  facilities,  will  prevent  new  problems 
from  arising. 


THE  STEEL  COMPANY  OF  CANADA,  LIMITED. 


70  PR. 3 


9 


^  ^Modern  Company  Over 
121  ‘'Years  GYoung 


That’s  what  those  who  know  us  well  say  about  us. 

We  keep  pace  with  today’s  new  fields  of  endeavour, 
yet  we  have  a  solid  background  of  more  than  one 
hundred  and  twenty-one  years  in  the  various  fields 
of  life  insurance. 

At  Canada  Life,  there  are  many  rewarding  oppor¬ 
tunities  open  to  the  university  graduate. 

Opportunities  in  Electronics,  Accounting,  Group, 
Marketing,  etc. 

Or  a  worthwhile  opportunity  to  become  a  member 
of  the  life  underwriting  profession. 


10 


“In  my  forty  years  of  working  on 
this  campus  I  have  never  ceased  to 
be  impressed  by  .  .  .  the  sheer  guts 
required  to  turn  one’s  back  on  the 
current  parade,  as  most  of  our 
students  manage  to  do” 

Hart  House 
Rededicated 

Northrop  Frye 

My  own  memories  of  Hart 
House  cover  forty  of  its  fifty 
years.  I  first  entered  it  with 
the  freshman  class  of  Victoria  in 
1929,  and  recognized  it  at  once  as  a 
place  where  I  ought  to  be.  For  Hart 
House  represented  the  university  as 
a  society;  it  dramatized  the  kind  of 
life  that  the  university  encourages 
one  to  live:  a  life  in  which  imagina¬ 
tion  and  intelligence  have  a  central 
and  continuous  function.  There  was 
never  any  question  about  student 
representation  at  Hart  House:  the 
committees  from  the  beginning  had 
consisted  almost  entirely  of  students. 


There  was  never  any  question  of  ac¬ 
cepting  any  of  the  silly  cliches  that 
are  found  in  the  university  as  every¬ 
where:  cliches  about  engineers  being 
Philistines  bored  with  art  and  music 
and  so  forth.  It  was  the  place  where 
our  education  came  into  a  social 
focus,  where  we  could  see  the  rela¬ 
tion  of  learning  and  thinking  to 
living. 

Most  historians  would  probably 
single  out  Hart  House’s  first  decade 
as  its  most  spectacular,  for  reasons 
that  had  less  to  do  with  Hart  House 
than  with  the  history  of  the  country. 
In  the  twenties  the  pictures  bought 


Dr.  Frye,  University  Professor,  spoke  at  the  simple  rededication  service  for 
Hart  House  on  its  50th  birthday. 


11 


by  the  Art  Committee  belonged  to  an 
exhilarating  new  art  movement;  in 
the  twenties  the  theatre  was  a  centre 
of  intense  local  dramatic  activity, 
with  plays  being  written  as  well  as 
produced  and  acted  by  university 
students  and  faculty;  after  the  twen¬ 
ties  debating,  at  Toronto  as  at  every 
other  university  on  the  continent,  be¬ 
gan  to  decline  as  the  central  non- 
athletic  student  activity,  when  some¬ 
thing  managerial  and  executive  began 
to  take  over  student  life.  Hart  House 
had,  of  course,  been  opened  at  a  time 
when  women  students  were  still 
called  “co-eds”,  not  quite  first-class 
university  citizens,  but  in  those  days 
of  cheap  dates  and  late  marriages  the 
status  of  women  students  was  hardly 
a  major  social  problem,  even  to  them. 
In  the  next  forty  years,  Hart  House 
assumed  the  much  more  difficult  role 
of  absorption  into  the  routine  of  uni¬ 
versity  life,  meeting  changed  social 
conditions  and  different  foci  of  in¬ 
terests.  Ideally,  such  a  building  as 
Hart  House  ought  to  be  redesigned 
every  ten  years.  I  understand  that 
someone  (probably  a  member  of  the 
Art  Committee)  remarked  to  one  of 
the  architects  that  it  was  unfortunate 
in  some  ways  that  Hart  House  was  a 
hundred  per  cent  functional:  that 
there  was  no  room  just  for  storing 
junk,  for  waste  space,  for  no  desig¬ 
nated  purpose. 

The  architect  said:  “My  God,  man, 
you  can’t  think  of  everything  ’. 

The  words  should  be  over  the  door 
of  every  building  of  long  endurance 
and  versatile  use. 


Hart  House  was  built  during  the 
First  World  War,  a  fact  reflected  in 
the  soldiers’  memorial  at  the  tower 
and  in  the  coats  of  arms  in  the  Great 
Hall,  which  are  those  of  the  universi¬ 
ties  in  the  Allied  countries  before  the 
entry  of  the  United  States.  The  feel¬ 
ing  that  the  country’s  energies  ought 
to  be  concentrated  on  the  war  effort 
was  one  of  an  intensity  that  we  can 
hardly  grasp  today:  there  was  an 
obscure  sense  that  this  war  was  his¬ 
torically  Canada’s  entrance  on  the 
world  stage,  and  that  its  whole  future 
depended  on  the  impression  its  role 
in  the  war  would  make.  Hence  there 
was  strong  opposition  to  the  building 
of  Hart  House,  and  the  magnificent 
passage  from  Milton’s  Areopagitica 
that  goes  around  the  Great  Hall  was 
put  there  mainly  as  an  answer  to  it. 
After  that  came  the  depression,  the 
Second  World  War,  the  cold  war  of 
Communism  and  McCarthyism,  and 
the  student  unrest  of  the  sixties.  It 
seems  clear  that  there  is  always  a 
crisis,  always  something  of  temporary 
priority  that  we  ought  to  be  attending 
to  instead.  But  this  means  that  the 
real  temporary  hurdle  to  be  got  over 
first,  before  we  have  any  right  to 
enjoy  life,  is  life  itself.  The  rationaliz¬ 
ing  of  distraction  is  really  an  aspect 
of  the  death  wish  in  the  human  mind, 
its  constant  impulse  to  throw  life 
away  under  the  chariot  of  some  cause 
that  gets  a  lot  of  headlines.  In  my 
forty  years  of  working  on  this  cam¬ 
pus,  I  have  never  ceased  to  be  im¬ 
pressed  by  the  amount  of  courage  it 
takes  to  be  a  student,  the  sheer  guts 


12 


required  to  turn  one’s  back  on  the 
current  parade,  as  most  of  our  stu¬ 
dents  manage  to  do.  Only  once  in  my 
time  have  students  been  released 
from  this  kind  of  harassment,  and  that 
was  when  those  who  had  spent  an 
obligatory  amount  of  time  in  the 
Second  War,  and  had  been  lucky 
enough  to  survive,  came  back  free  to 
devote  themselves  to  the  life  that  the 
university  stands  for.  But  for  the  most 
part  students  have  always  had  some 
nightmare  of  distraction  on  their 
chests.  All  I  can  suggest  is  that  while 
nothing  is  more  insistent,  demanding 
and  obviously  important  than  this 
year’s  hysterias,  nothing  is  more  pa¬ 
thetically  ludicrous  than  the  hysterias 
of  last  year. 

Since  1919,  a  memorial  service  at 
the  tower,  along  with  an  editorial  in 
The  Varsity  attacking  its  hypocrisy 
and  crypto-militarism,  has  been  an 
annual  event  of  campus  life.  Cer¬ 
tainly  I  could  not  myself  participate 
in  such  a  service  if  I  thought  that  its 
purpose  was  to  strengthen  our  wills 
to  fight  another  war,  instead  of  to 
fight  against  the  coming  of  another 
war.  That  being  understood,  I  think 
there  is  a  place  for  the  memorial 
service,  apart  from  the  personal  rea¬ 
son  that  many  students  of  mine  have 
their  names  inscribed  on  the  tower. 
It  reminds  us  of  something  inescap¬ 
able  in  the  human  situation.  Man  is  a 
creature  of  communities,  and  com¬ 
munities  enrich  themselves  by  what 
they  include:  the  university  enriches 
itself  by  breaking  down  its  middle- 
class  fences  and  reaching  out  to  less 


privileged  social  areas-  the  city  en¬ 
riches  itself  by  the  variety  of  ethnical 
groups  it  has  taken  in.  But  while 
communities  enrich  themselves  by 
what  they  include,  they  define  them¬ 
selves  by  what  they  exclude.  The 
more  intensely  a  community  feels  its 
identity  as  a  community,  the  more 
intensely  it  feels  its  difference  from 
what  is  across  its  boundary.  In  a 
strong  sense  of  community  there  is 
thus  always  an  element  that  may  be¬ 
come  hostile  and  aggressive. 

It  is  significant  that  our  memorial 
service  commemorates  two  wars,  both 
fought  against  the  same  country.  In 
all  wars,  including  all  revolutions,  the 
enemy  becomes  an  imaginary  abstrac¬ 
tion  of  evil.  Some  German  who  never 
heard  of  us  becomes  a  “Hun”;  some 
demonstrator  who  is  really  protesting 
against  his  mother  becomes  a  “Com¬ 
munist”;  some  policeman  with  a  wife 
and  family  to  support  becomes  a 
“fascist  pig”.  We  know  that  we  are 
lying  when  we  do  this  kind  of  thing, 
but  we  say  it  is  tactically  necessary 
and  go  on  doing  it.  But  because  it  is 
lying,  it  cannot  create  or  accomplish 
anything,  and  so  all  wars,  including 
all  revolutions,  take  us  back  to  the 
square  one  of  frustrated  aggression  in 
which  they  began.  Cuba  is  Commu¬ 
nist  today,  South  Africa  has  apartheid 
today,  Africa  and  Asia  seethe  with 
unrest  today,  because  the  Spanish- 
American  war,  the  Boer  war,  and  all 
the  imperialistic  wars  fought  two 
generations  ago  have  to  be  fought 
over  again.  This  state  of  things  will 
continue  without  change,  until  we 


13 


understand  that  our  only  real  enemies 
are  the  legions  of  demons  inside  us. 
And  the  university,  whatever  its  rela¬ 
tion  to  society  may  be  or  however 
out  of  date  its  curriculum  or  resi¬ 
dence  rules,  still  does  provide  us  with 
some  of  the  weapons  we  must  have 
for  winning  the  only  war,  and  accom¬ 
plishing  the  only  revolution,  that 
really  exist. 

I  refer  to  the  memorial  service  be¬ 
cause  it  illustrates  the  meaning  of 
anniversaries,  of  moments  of  recall 
and  of  anticipation.  We  cannot  think 
of  fifty  years  of  Hart  House  apart 
from  its  context  in  the  last  fifty  years 
of  history.  In  retrospect  the  horror 
and  misery  of  the  past  takes  on  the 
unreality  of  everything  evil,  even  as 
part  of  our  own  experience;  it  is 
certain  moments  of  heightened  con¬ 
sciousness  that  stand  out  as  real. 
Perhaps  the  great  religions  are  right, 
after  all,  when  they  tell  us  that  death 
is  not  the  opposite  of  life,  but  only 
the  opposite  of  birth:  that  there  may 
be  something  unreal  about  both  death 
and  birth,  but  that  life  itself  is  real, 
however  much  of  it  is  passed  in  sleep 
and  dream.  There  is  a  continuous 
dream  in  life,  which  is  the  slave’s  life 
that  we  live  when  we  are  driven  by 
the  necessities  of  money  or  security 
or  the  tactics  of  conflict.  The  aware¬ 
ness  of  the  reality  of  life  comes  in 
detached  moments  of  release  from 
this,  or  in  later  memories  of  them.  We 
live  by  virtue  of  such  moments,  and 
to  me,  and  to  thousands  of  others, 
many  of  them  are  associated  with  this 
house.  Any  place  where  anything  has 

14 


really  happened  to  us  becomes  part 
of  our  home,  and  for  living  people,  as 
is  said  to  be  true  of  ghosts,  it  is  natu¬ 
ral  to  keep  haunting  the  place  where 
something  that  they  cannot  forget  has 
occurred. 

It  is  in  this  way  that  traditions  are 
established,  and  that  institutions  ac¬ 
quire  social  dignity.  But  to  think  only 
of  what  has  been  done,  and  indulge 
in  rhetoric  about  “these  hallowed 
halls”,  would  be  not  only  glib  nostal¬ 
gia  but  would  be  trying  to  imprison 
the  future  in  the  framework  of  the 
past.  Even  to  recall  its  great  wardens 
and  benefactors,  at  this  point,  would 
have  something  of  this.  What  is  still 
to  come  must  come  as  discovery,  as 
unprecedented,  as  something  never 
thought  of  before.  Once  done,  it  will 
become  continuous  with  the  past,  but 
its  continuity  will  look  after  itself:  it 
must  not  be  imposed  from  the  start. 
A  university  becomes  great  only 
through  its  power  of  renewing  its 
youth,  both  literally  and  figuratively. 
To  dedicate  is  a  commitment,  but  to 
rededicate  is  something  much  more 
than  merely  renewing  a  commitment. 
It  is  to  recognize  the  hope  which 
belongs  only  to  the  future,  and  for  its 
sake  to  be  ready  for  whatever  may 
come  in  the  way  of  revolutionary 
change.  That  man  is  immortal  we  sus¬ 
pect;  that  he  is  enduring  we  know; 
but  that  he  can  look  forward  is  his 
most  deeply  human  quality,  and  to 
look  forward  with  acceptance  and 
gladness  to  experiences  that  can  come 
only  to  others  is  perhaps  something 
even  more. 


university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


Hart  House 
is  50 


A  s  they  approach  the  end  of  an 
7\  11-day  celebration,  the  War- 
A.  \.  den  of  Hart  House,  Arnold 
Wilkinson,  and  his  wife  Dorothy 
reflect  the  satisfaction  of  all  who  had 
a  hand  in  the  50th  birthday  party  of 
the  University’s  great  centre  for  en¬ 
richment  of  mind,  body  and  spirit. 

The  Massey  Foundation  formally 
presented  Hart  House  to  the  Uni¬ 
versity  on  November  11,  1919.  “The 
results,”  said  President  Claude  Bissell, 
“are  writ  large  in  the  life  of  the 
nation.”  Birthday  events  illustrating 
some  aspects  of  the  Hart  House  con¬ 
tribution  were  photographed  by 
Robert  Lansdale  for  the  picture-pages 
that  follow. 


April  1970 


15 


Birthday  events  included  an  archery  contest,  an  exhibition  of  Canadian  paint¬ 
ing,  songs  by  Lois  Marshall.  Lower  right :  Professor  John  Leyerle  with  Mrs. 
Claude  Bissell,  the  President,  and  Mrs.  Omond  Solandt  after  a  gala  per¬ 
formance  of  “Mourning  Becomes  Electra”  in  Hart  House  Theatre. 


16 


university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


April  1970 


17 


At  a  dinner  for  Hart  House  Committees  past  and 
present,  Rt.  Hon.  Lester  Pearson  (below  with  Dr. 
Omond  Solandt,  the  Chancellor)  spoke,  and  Hart 
Massey  blew  out  the  candle  on  the  cake  honouring 

Facing  page :  Presidents  all  —  Kenneth  Bradford 
of  Loyalist  College,  Belleville;  Dr.  D.  C.  Williams, 
University  of  Western  Ontario;  Dr.  Bissell.  The 
Glee  Club  gave  several  performances. 


18 


university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


April  1970 


19 


20 


university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


One  is  tempted 
to  speculate  on 
the  musings  of 
Philippe  Cousteau 
as  he  chats  with 
three  charmers 
in  a  House  which 
restricts  visits 
by  women  to 
specific  times 
and  places.  His 
own  appearance 
was  sponsored  by 
the  Hart  House 
Underwater  Club. 

Left:  George 
Kuprejanov  takes 
on  all  comers  in 
“simuR  chess. 


James  Peters,  below,  presented  the  Hart  House  Debates 
Committee  with  a  mace  he  had  carved  from  solid 
maple.  Once  a  member  of  the  committee,  he  is  now  a 
teacher  at  Ryerson  Polytechnical  Institute. 


April  1970 


21 


Above :  George  Ignatieff,  Canadian 
delegate  to  the  Geneva  disarmament 
talks,  spoke  in  the  anniversary  debate, 
was  honoured  with  an  LL.D.  His 
brother  Nicholas  was  3rd  warden. 

Right :  Sydney  Hermant,  a  governor 
of  the  University,  was  right  at  home 
as  “Mr.  Speaker”  for  the  evening.  He 
is  seen  at  the  bottom  of  the  page  with 
hve  other  members  of  the  1934—35 
Debates  Committee.  From  the  left 
they  are:  J.  B.  Bickersteth,  2nd  war¬ 
den;  Arnold  Smith,  Secretary-General 
of  the  Commonwealth;  Professor 
Edgar  Mclnnis,  delegate  to  the  U.N. 
General  Assembly;  A.  R.  Tilley,  who 
is  Chairman  of  the  Protestant  School 
Board  of  Greater  Montreal;  Mr.  Her¬ 
mant;  Escott  Reid,  diplomat,  retiring 
principal  of  York  University’s  Glendon 
College. 


22 


university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


Ian  Montagnes,  U  of  T  Press,  author 
of  An  Uncommon  Fellowship,  The 
Story  of  Hart  House,  was  general 
chairman  of  “Hart  House  50” 


Rae  Cowan  was  the  co-ordinator  of 
all  anniversary  events. 


April  1970 


23 


“Hart  House  50“  included  an  11 -day  fair  at  Hart  House  Farm.  Warden 
Wilkinson  and  Mrs.  Helen  Ignatieff,  widow  of  the  3rd  warden,  swing  open 
the  gates  (above)  to  signal  the  start  of  a  program  that  had  square  dances, 
cider  pressing,  a  tug-of-war  (below),  hay  rides  and  many  other  events. 


24 


university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


Whether  or  not  their  talent  is  showing,  young  writers  find  a  friend 
who  understands  their  problems  and  stands  ready  to  help 


“How  can  you  make  sure 
you  suffer  enough?” 

Robertson  Davies  talks  with  Margaret  Laurence 


What  should  a  Writer-in- 
Residence  do  on  campus? 
The  question  is  asked 
every  year  by  the  new  appointee,  and 
every  year  the  Committee  responds, 
‘You  must  do  whatever  you  think  most 
likely  to  help  young  writers  in  the 
university,  by  the  means  most  con¬ 
genial  to  you.’  The  answer  is  pur¬ 
posely  vague:  the  committee  would 
think  it  wrong  to  impose  a  pattern. 
So  far,  the  Writers-in-Residence  have 
found  their  own  way;  this  year  Mar¬ 
garet  Laurence  has  established  a 
strongly  personal  pattern. 

She  has  given  two  public  lectures, 
but  these  were  for  the  university  at 
large,  and  were  attended  by  many 
people  who  have  no  intention  of 
writing  anything  themselves,  but  who 
are  interested  in  contemporary  litera¬ 
ture,  and  in  Mrs.  Laurence  as  one  of 
the  best,  and  best-known  of  living 
Canadian  writers.  What  she  considers 
her  most  serious  work  has  been  done 
in  a  series  of  personal  interviews  with 
young  writers;  when  they  make  an 


appointment,  she  asks  that  they  send 
a  piece  of  work  at  least  a  week  before 
they  are  to  see  her;  she  reads  it  with 
care,  and  when  the  young  writer  ap¬ 
pears  it  may  be  a  springboard  for 
further  discussion,  or  it  may  be  the 
subject  of  detailed  criticism.  At  these 
interviews,  the  young  writer  gets  the 
full  attention  of  the  Writer-in-Resi- 
dence.  How  does  it  work? 

‘When  they  are  really  good  it’s 
easy,’  she  says.  ‘We  go  over  the  piece 
they  have  sent  with  a  fine-tooth 
comb,  and  lots  of  questions  and  prob¬ 
lems  arise  from  that.  Sometimes  I  ask 
to  see  the  piece  again,  after  they  have 
rewritten  it.’ 

What  if  they  are  not  really  good? 

‘That  is  more  difficult.  Many  young 
people  write  —  poetry,  very  often  — 
as  a  means  of  coming  to  grips  with 
problems  that  have  great  impact  on 
their  lives  at  present.  They  are  not 
necessarily  writers.  But  the  problems 
are  real,  and  I  try  to  talk  about  those, 
making  it  clear  that  the  problem  and 
not  the  writing  is  what  is  significant.’ 


April  1970 


25 


How  can  you  tell  if  they  are 
writers? 

‘You  can’t.  Not  everybody’s  talent 
declares  itself  early.  I  refuse  to  set  up 
as  a  lady-prophetess,  recognizing 
talent  here  and  saying  it  doesn’t  exist 
somewhere  else.  You  recognize  those 
who  are  writers  now.  The  others  are 
important  human  beings  who  may  be 
writers  at  some  future  time.  Or  not.  I 
don’t  pretend  to  know.  But  those  who 
are  writers  are  ready  to  listen  to  any 
amount  of  criticism,  provided  you 
take  their  work  seriously.  That’s  one 
of  the  great  problems  in  Canada;  so 
few  people  who  are  in  a  position  to 
know  are  able,  or  perhaps  ready,  to 
see  the  work  of  young  writers.  Oh, 
there  are  lots  of  critics,  but  a  critic  is 
not  much  good  to  somebody  who  is 
finding  his  way.  The  critic  thinks,  but 
the  writer  feels.  The  young  writer 
needs  another,  older  writer,  who 
knows  what  writing  is  from  personal 
experience,  and  can  feel  as  he  does, 
while  seeing  what  needs  to  be  re¬ 
thought,  or  perhaps  re-felt.’ 

Has  the  older  writer,  then,  achieved 
a  sense  of  serenity  —  of  certainty 
about  his  work? 

‘Oh,  never!  In  fact,  the  more  ex¬ 
perience  you  have  the  more  vulner¬ 
able  you  are  likely  to  be.  Perhaps  the 
most  terrible  time  in  a  writer’s  life  is 
the  period  after  he  has  finished  some¬ 
thing  and  is  waiting  for  a  response 
from  a  publisher  or  an  agent.  It  never 
becomes  any  less  agonizing.  That  is 
why  the  older  writer  can  help  the 
young  one;  he  knows  how  vulnerable 
he  is.’ 


Does  Mrs.  Laurence  think  that 
grants  for  young  writers  are  helpful 
in  developing  talent? 

‘Once,  perhaps.  But  if  a  writer  is 
young  and  able-bodied  he  shouldn’t 
make  a  career  of  grant-seeking.’ 

Does  she  like  lecturing? 

‘Hate  it.  I  get  terribly  nervous.  Not 
because  I  lack  faith  in  what  I  am 
going  to  say  but  because  I  loathe  the 
whole  business  of  stauding  before  an 
audience  to  make  a  set  speech.  I  like 
to  talk  about  what  people  want  to 
hear.  That’s  why  I  prefer  the  seminar 
form.  There  are  usually  some  excel¬ 
lent  questions,  and  they  open  up  big 
areas  that  the  audience  really  wants 
to  know  about.  Of  course  I  make 
speeches.  I  have  several  lined  up  for 
the  winter  and  spring.  But  I  much 
prefer  an  informal  discussion  and  if 
you  really  want  to  tell  a  young  writer 
something  that  will  be  of  use  to  him 


26 


university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


It  was  not  hard 
to  pick  the  right 
person  to  talk 
with  our  Writer- 
in-Residence. 
Professor  Davies, 
at  left  with  his 
wife,  is  Master  of 
Massey  College 
where  Margaret 
Laurence,  right, 
has  her  office. 

With  16  books  to 
his  credit,  plus 
three  others  with 
Tyrone  Guthrie  as 
collaborator,  and 
a  20th  about  to  be 
published,  he  had 
no  difficulty  in 
posing  productive 
questions. 


it  has  to  be  a  one-to-one  discussion  of 
at  least  an  hour,  and  probably  more, 
so  that  shyness  wears  off  and  the  real 
things  come  out.’ 

What  about  writers’  workshops? 

‘Some  are  excellent  and  there  are 
two  or  three  very  good  ones  on  cam¬ 
pus.  They  are  invaluable  to  people 
who  respond  well  to  group  criticism 
—  but  that  isn’t  every  writer. 

Mrs.  Laurence  has  talked  to  high 
school  groups,  as  well  as  university 
students.  What  are  their  questions 
like?  ‘At  best  they  are  just  as  search¬ 
ing  as  those  I  hear  in  the  university. 
Of  course,  some  very  young  people 
ask  questions  that  have  to  be  dealt 
with  tactfully.’ 

I  have  heard  her  talking  to  high 
school  students.  One  girl  asked,  very 
shyly,  ‘How  can  you  make  sure  you 
suffer  enough  to  be  a  writer?’  The 
answer:  ‘Don’t  worry  about  that.  We 


all  suffer  about  as  much  as  we  can 
stand.  Don’t  go  looking  for  suffering; 
it  has  your  address,  and  will  get  in 
touch.’ 

Another  question,  again  from  a  girl 
of  perhaps  sixteen:  ‘In  The  Stone 
Angel  the  heroine,  Hagar,  didn’t  seem 
to  enjoy  sex  very  much.  Why  is  that? 
What  have  you  got  against  sex?’  The 
answer:  ‘Sex  is  an  aspect  of  per¬ 
sonality  —  of  two  personalities.  Ha- 
gar’s  situation,  as  a  middle-aged 
woman  in  a  marriage  that  had  lost  its 
savour,  was  a  special  one.  All  sexual 
situations  are  personal.’ 

Again,  a  high  school  question:  ‘Did 
you  like  the  way  that  A  Jest  of  God 
was  made  into  a  movie?’  (This  was 
called,  on  the  screen,  Rachel,  Rachel.) 
Answer:  ‘Yes,  I  did.  Movie-making  is 
not  my  business,  and  I  didn’t  think  it 
would  help  if  I  interfered  or  watched 
while  it  was  being  filmed.  I  thought  it 


April  1970 


27 


had  been  translated  very  sensitively 
into  another  form/ 

‘Do  you  think  critics  see  symbols 
in  your  work  that  you  didn’t  put 
there;  do  you  think  they  overdo  that 
kind  of  criticism?’ 

‘A  writer  may  not  be  wholly  con¬ 
scious,  or  conscious  at  all,  of  elements 
in  his  work  that  are  apparent  to  a 
critic.  I  am  often  surprised  when  critics 
reveal  things  I  hadn’t  noticed,  because 
my  attention  when  writing  the  story 
was  on  something  else.  A  sensitive 
critic  may  do  this  brilliantly.  But  of 
course  another  kind  of  critic  may  im¬ 
pose  ideas  of  his  own  on  a  book,  if  he 
is  determined  to  find  what  he  calls  a 
“symbolic  structure”  in  it.  This  sort 
of  criticism  does  a  certain  amount  of 
mischief  among  impressionable  young 
writers.  They  are  afraid  no  symbols 
will  arise  naturally  in  their  work  —  or 
not  symbols  gorgeous  enough  for 
critics  who  want  symbolism.  I’ve  had 
books  sent  to  me  in  typescript  which 
had  elaborate  schemes  of  symbolism 
outlined  in  a  preface,  with  “The  sym¬ 
bolic  structure  of  the  following  novel 
is  arranged  as  follows  .  .  .”  or  some¬ 
thing  of  that  kind.  That’s  no  good  at 
all.  The  writer  has  created  a  frame¬ 
work  and  tried  to  stretch  the  skin  of 
a  novel  over  it. 

‘Do  you  get  your  characters  from 
people  you  know  in  real  life?’ 

‘Never.  That  is  reporting,  not  writing 
a  novel.  In  my  writing,  the  charac¬ 
ters,  or  at  least  the  chief  character, 
comes  before  the  plot.  Where  they 
come  from  I  don’t  know  and  I  don’t 
think  it  would  be  helpful  to  know.’ 

28 


‘Is  your  writing  autobiographical?’ 

‘All  fiction  is  autobiographical  be¬ 
cause  it  reflects  the  experience  and 
the  temperament  of  the  writer.  But 
what  it  reflects  is  what  he  has  done 
with  his  experience  —  not  the  naked 
facts.  Many  writers  begin  by  writing 
autobiographically  —  you  know  —  “My 
parents  never  understood  me  and  I 
wasn’t  loved  enough”  —  that  kind  of 
thing.  My  earliest  works  were  very 
reticent  about  anything  that  was  per¬ 
sonal.  Only  now  am  I  able  to  put  real 
experiences  into  my  writing  —  still 
greatly  transformed,  mind  you.’ 

‘What  do  you  think  of  some  of  the 
modern  writing  that  is  very  frank 
about  physical  things,  and  uses  four- 
letter  words?’ 

‘It  depends  entirely  on  the  quality 
of  the  imagination  and  perception  be¬ 
hind  it.  Four-letter  words  don’t  make 
a  book  good  any  more  than  reticence 
makes  a  book  bad.  You  remember 
what  Irvin  Cobb  said:  “I  believe  youth 
must  be  served,  but  I  don’t  see  why  it 
has  to  be  served  raw.”  ’ 

It  is  interesting  to  observe  that 
when  Margaret  Laurence  talks  to 
high  school  students,  it  is  the  girls 
who  ask  direct  questions  about  her 
personality  and  often  about  her  atti¬ 
tude  toward  sex.  The  boys  tend  to 
wait  until  the  session  is  over,  and 
then  try  to  engage  her  in  private 
conversation,  to  ask  questions  about 
writing  which  obviously  spring  from 
their  own  experiments  and  ambitions. 

What  can  a  successful  and  ex¬ 
perienced  writer  tell  university  stu¬ 
dents  who  wish  to  write  themselves? 

university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


program,  programme,  progrum 

EDITOR,  U  OF  T  GRADUATE,  UNIVERSITY  OF  TORONTO 

PLEASE  MAKE  UP  YOUR  MIND  ABOUT  PROGRAMME  WHICH  YOU  SOMETIMES 
SPELL  CORRECTLY  BUT  OFTEN  INCORRECTLY  LIKE  AMERICANS  WHO  WRITE 
PROGRAM  AND  SAY  PROGRUM 

OCCASIONAL  READER 

Ed.  Note :  This  stimulating  telegrum  is  in  line  with  a  grumble  or  two 
we’ve  heard  within  our  own  academic  community.  A  majority  of  our 
contributors  use  programme,  others  program.  We  let  them  have  their 
heads:  it’s  a  free  country  —  isn’t  it?  Left  to  our  own  devices,  we  go  along 
with  Oxford  and  Fowler.  This  is  Fowler’s  comment: 

“It  appears  from  the  OED  quotations  that  -am  was  the  regular  spelling 
until  the  19th  c.,  and  the  OED’s  judgement  is:  ‘The  earlier  program  was 
retained  by  Scott,  Carlyle,  Hamilton,  &  others,  &  is  preferable,  as 
conforming  to  the  usual  English  representation  of  Greek  gramma,  in 
anagram,  cryptogram,  diagram,  telegram,  &c.V’ 

^  '^1  ^  ^  '^S/- 


‘The  questions  cover  the  widest 
possible  range,  because  there  is  no¬ 
body  else  to  tell  young  writers  any¬ 
thing.  They  may  want  to  talk  about 
complex  and  difficult  problems  of 
technique,  or  they  may  want  to  ask 
practical  questions  —  how  do  you 
prepare  a  typescript,  how  do  you  get 
a  publisher  to  read  it,  are  agents  help¬ 
ful,  how  much  should  you  allow  a 
publisher’s  opinion  to  influence  you 
in  re-writing  or  changing  a  book, 
what  is  a  fair  payment  for  a  story, 
what  is  the  usual  royalty  scale  —  all 
that  kind  of  thing. 

‘The  chief  thing  is  that  they  want 
attention  and  reassurance.  This  isn’t 
vanity;  it  is  a  basic  necessity  for  a 
writer.  We  all  work  alone,  and  some¬ 
times  we  just  have  to  have  a  sign  that 


somebody  understands  what  we  are 
doing  and  thinks  it  important.  It  is 
needed  by  the  established  writer, 
even  though  he  has  a  public  and  the 
world  in  general  thinks  he  gets  plenty 
of  attention.  But  the  attention  comes 
once  in  a  while,  when  he  has  written 
something  new;  the  sense  of  being 
alone  is  daily.  Writers  are  not  glamor¬ 
ous,  like  people  in  the  performing 
arts,  and  the  public  is  likely  to  forget 
about  them.  For  the  beginner,  who 
has  never  had  anything  published,  or 
who  has  had  some  publication  but 
very  little  attention,  the  understand¬ 
ing  and  reassurance  of  somebody  who 
knows  what  writing  is  and  the  way 
writers  are  is  a  serious  necessity.  And 
that  is  something  a  Writer-in-Resi- 
dence  can  supply.’ 


April  1970 


29 


The  Department  of  Islamic  Studies  is  host  to  the 
Middle  East  Studies  Association  of  North  America 


Take  67  approaches 
to  history,  culture 
and  life  of  Islam 


Professor  Roger  Savory,  above,  chairman  of  the  Department  of 

Islamic  Studies  at  University  of  Toronto,  and  his  colleagues  were  hosts 
for  the  third  annual  meeting  of  the  Middle  East  Studies  Association  of 
North  America.  Fifty-three  Canadian,  U.S.  and  overseas  universities  and 
colleges  were  represented  by  405  scholars  having  a  special  interest  in  the  area 
which  they  have  defined  for  their  intellectual  study  as  extending  from 
Morocco  to  Pakistan  and  from  Turkey  to  the  Sudan. 

These  Middle  East  scholars  are  interested  in  the  history,  life,  and  culture 
of  Islam  from  the  7th  century  to  the  present. 

Only  two  Canadian  universities  have  full-scale  programs  in  Islamic  studies 
—  Toronto  and  McGill.  There  are  265  students  in  Islamic  studies  at  U  of  T. 

The  15  teachers  include  two  from  Pakistan,  one  from  Turkey,  one  from  Iran, 
and  four  from  Arab  lands. 

Half  the  total  membership  of  the  MESA  attended  the  Toronto  meeting.  The 
executive  secretary,  I.  William  Zartmann,  complimented  the  Department  of 
Islamic  Studies  on  the  efficient  way  it  handled  the  sessions  and  on  the  extra 
touches  provided. 

As  listed  in  the  program,  the  titles  of  the  67  papers  delivered  at  the  meeting 
were  intriguing,  even  to  a  layman.  Choosing  at  random  The  Egyptian  Power 
Elite,  the  Editor  invited  its  author  to  do  a  summary  for  readers  of  the  Graduate. 


30 


university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


Professor  Mirza  Baig  leads  Moslem  delegates  in  prayer  at  the  Jamie  Mosque, 
once  High  Park  Presbyterian  Church.  (See  overleaf  as  well.)  Of  the  groups 
facing  Mecca,  men  are  in  foreground ,  women  at  rear.  Later,  at  a  social 
function  for  the  worshippers  and  their  non-Moslem  guests,  Mrs.  Baig  helps 
her  daughter  Lubna  cut  into  her  first  birthday  cake. 

This  appears  on  page  39.  Some  of  the  other  topics  were: 

Wells  of  Bitterness:  a  survey  of  Israeli-Arab  political  poetry 
The  development  of  modern  Arabic  fiction  in  Iraq 
The  literary  activity  of  Iranians  in  Istanbul  at  the  turn  of  the  century 
Iranian  Azerbaijan  literature  under  the  autonomous  government  of  1945-46 
Politics,  participation  and  progress  in  Tunisia 
The  failure  of  multi-party  politics  in  Morocco:  an  historian’s  view 
The  1920  revolt  in  Iraq:  or  how  a  tribal  rebellion  ushered  in  a  monarchy 
Conflicting  models  of  a  Berber  tribal  structure  in  Morocco:  the  segmentaiy 
and  alliance  systems  of  the  Aith  Waryaghar  of  the  Central  Rif. 

Renewed  intervention  by  the  military  in  Sudanese  politics 
Political  violence  and  governmental  change  in  the  Arab  states:  an  analysis  of 
the  post-World  War  II  period 
The  changing  patterns  of  Iraq  army  politics 
The  literacy  corps  in  Iran  —  an  evaluation 


April  1970 


31 


Marxism  and  modem  Arabic  thought 

The  growth  of  the  public  sector  in  Middle  Eastern  economies 
Economic  aspects  of  current  political  crises  in  the  Middle  East 
Islamic  reform  in  Lebanon:  emergence  of  the  Maqased  benevolent  society 
The  role  of  oil  revenues  in  the  economic  development  of  the  Middle  East 
Evolution  in  the  outlook  toward  the  profit  motive  in  some  Middle  Eastern 
countries 

Saudi  Arabia:  the  development  and  preservation  of  a  Wahhabi  society 
Origin,  function  and  future  of  neutral  territories  in  the  Middle  East 
Children  of  the  ancien  regime  in  a  changing  society:  a  study  of 
Egyptian  students 

The  Mulkiye  and  elite  recruitment  in  Turkey 

Al-Farabi,  Ibn  Sina  and  Ibn  Rushd  —  the  rhetorician  and  his  relationship  to 
the  community 

The  internal  passive  in  Nadjii  Arabic 
Pseudo-possessive  Ba’al  phrases  in  modern  Hebrew 
Neutron  activation  analysis  of  Sasanian  and  Islamic  silver  coins 
How  far  to  the  city:  quantitative  functional  remoteness  of  the  rural  Turkish 
population  from  the  urban  foci 
The  United  Nations  and  inter-Arab  wars 

The  position  of  the  Sultan  within  the  Ottoman  political  system  in  the 
second  half  of  the  reign  of  Mahmud  II,  1826-1839 
A  rebellion  in  Southern  Anatolia,  1606—1607 


32 


JihiLosopheRs’wAik 


No  one  I  think  can  blame  me  if  I  want  to 
Exalt  in  verse  the  University  of  Toronto. 

I  always  speak ,  I  hope  I  always  will 
Speak  in  the  highest  terms  of  Old  McGill; 
That  institution,  1  admit  with  tears, 

Has  paid  my  salary  for  sixteen  years. 

But  what  is  money  to  a  man  like  me? 
Toronto  honoured  me  with  her  degree. 

—  Stephen  Leacock,  1916 


Stephen  Leacock’s  Sermon  on  Humour,  overleaf,  is  reprinted  in  honour  of 
his  hundredth  birthday.  (This  fell  on  December  30,  1969,  leaving  no  time  for 
celebration  in  the  actual  centennial  year.)  To  the  best  of  our  knowledge,  the 
Leacock  Sermon,  written  for  the  first  issue  of  The  Goblin  in  1921,  has  not 
re-surfaced  till  now.  It  is  followed  by  a  postscript  from  The  Goblins  Editor, 
James  A.  Cowan,  a  public  relations  counsellor  in  Toronto. 

From  1921  Leacock  to  the  Middle  East  today  is  a  long  jump  in  time  and 
space.  We  are  indebted  to  Professor  Benjamin  Schlesinger  and  Professor  R.  H. 
Dekmejian  for  their  significant  contributions. 


How  Stephen  Leacock  helped  to  establish  editorial  policy 
for  the  University’s  famous  off-campus  magazine  of  the  1920s 


A  Sermor, 


I  should  like  just  for  once,  to 
have  the  privilege  of  delivering 
a  sermon.  And  I  know  no  better 
opportunity  for  preaching  it  than  to 
do  so  across  the  cradle  of  this  infant 
Goblin  to  those  who  are  gathered  at 
its  christening. 

As  my  text  let  me  take  the  words 
that  were  once  said  in  playful  kindli¬ 
ness  by  Charles  the  Second,  “Good 
jests  ought  to  bite  like  lambs,  not 
dogs;  they  should  cut,  not  wound.” 
I  invite  the  editors  of  this  publication 
to  ponder  deeply  on  the  thought  and, 
when  they  have  a  sanctum,  to  carve 
the  words  in  oak  below  the  chimney 
piece. 

The  best  of  humour  is  always 
kindly.  The  worst  and  the  cheapest 
is  malicious.  The  one  is  arduous  and 
the  other  facile.  But,  like  the  facile 
descent  of  Avernus,  it  leads  only  to 
destruction. 

A  college  paper  is  under  very  pe¬ 
culiar  temptations  to  indulge  in  the 
cheaper  kinds  of  comicality.  In  the 
first  place  its  writers  and  its  readers 
are  for  the  most  part  in  that  early 
and  exuberant  stage  of  life  in  which 


34 


the  boisterous  assertion  of  one’s  own 
individuality  is  still  only  inadequately 
tempered  by  consideration  for  the 
feelings  of  others. 

In  the  second  place  it  finds  itself  in 
an  environment  that  lends  itself  to  the 
purposes  of  easy  ridicule.  The  profes¬ 
sor  stands  ready  as  its  victim. 

The  professor  is  a  queer  creature; 
of  a  type  inviting  the  laughter  of  the 
unwise.  His  eye  is  turned  in.  He  sees 
little  of  externals  and  values  them 
hardly  at  all.  Hence  in  point  of  cos¬ 
tume  and  appearance  he  becomes  an 
easy  mark.  He  wears  a  muffler  in 
April,  not  having  noticed  that  the 
winter  has  gone  by!  He  will  put  on  a 
white  felt  hat  without  observing  that 
it  is  the  only  one  in  town;  and  he  may 
be  seen  with  muffetees  upon  his  wrists 
fifty  years  after  the  fashion  of  wearing 
them  has  passed  away. 

I  can  myself  recall  a  learned  man 
at  the  University  of  Chicago  who  ap¬ 
peared  daily  during  the  summer 
quarter  in  an  English  morning  coat 
with  white  flannel  trousers  and  a  little 
round  straw  hat  with  a  blue  and 
white  ribbon  on  it,  fit  for  a  child  to 


university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


on  Humour 


wear  at  the  seaside.  That  man’s  own 
impression  of  his  costume  was  that 
it  was  a  somewhat  sportive  and 
debonair  combination,  such  as  any 
man  of  taste  might  assume  under  the 
more  torrid  signs  of  the  Zodiac. 

As  with  dress,  so  with  manner.  The 
professor  easily  falls  into  little  ways 
and  mannerisms  of  his  own.  In  the 
deference  of  the  class  room  they  pass 
unchallenged  and  uncorrected.  With 
the  passage  of  the  years  they  wear 
into  his  mind  like  ruts.  One  I  have 
known  who  blew  imaginary  chalk  dust 
off  his  sleeve  at  little  intervals;  one 
who  turned  incessantly  a  pencil  up 
and  down.  One  hitches  continuously 
at  his  tie;  one  smooths  with  meaning¬ 
less  care  the  ribbons  of  his  gown. 

As  with  his  dress,  so  with  the  pro¬ 
fessor’s  speech.  The  little  jest  that  he 
uttered  in  gay  impromptu  in  his  first 
year  as  a  young  lecturer  is  with  him 
still  in  his  declining  age.  The  happy 
phrase  and  the  neat  turn  of  thought 
are  none  the  less  neat  and  happy  to 
him  for  all  that  he  has  said  them 
regularly  once  a  year  for  thirty  ses¬ 
sions.  It  is  too  late  to  bid  them  good¬ 


bye.  In  any  case,  perhaps  the  students, 
or  perhaps  some  student,  has  not 
heard  them;  and  that  were  indeed  a 
pity. 

When  I  was  an  undergraduate  at 
the  University  of  Toronto  thirty  years 
ago,  the  noblest  of  our  instructors  had 
said  the  words  “Hence  accordingly” 
at  the  commencement  of  such  in¬ 
numerable  sentences  that  the  words 
had  been  engraved  by  a  college  joker 
across  the  front  of  the  lecturer’s  desk. 
They  had  been  there  so  long  that  all 
memory  of  the  original  joker  had  been 
lost.  Yet  the  good  man  had  never 
seen  them.  Coming  always  into  his 
class  room  in  the  same  way  and  bow¬ 
ing  to  his  class  from  the  same  quarter 
of  the  compass,  he  was  still  able  after 
forty  years  to  use  the  words  Hence 
accordingly  as  a  new  and  striking 
mode  of  thought.  The  applause  which 
always  greeted  the  phrase  he  at¬ 
tributed  to  our  proper  appreciation  of 
the  resounding  period  that  had  just 
been  closed.  He  always  bowed  slightly 
at  our  applause  and  flushed  a  little 
with  the  pardonable  vanity  of  age. 

Having  fun  over  a  thing  of  that 


April  1970 


35 


sort  is  as  easy  as  killing  a  bird  on  the 
nest,  and  quite  as  cruel. 

Can  it  be  wondered,  then,  that 
every  college  paper  that  sets  out  to 
be  “funny”  turns  loose  upon  the  pro¬ 
fessoriate.  It  fastens  upon  the  obvious 
idiosyncracies  of  the  instructors.  It 
puts  them  in  the  pillory.  It  ridicules 
their  speech.  It  lays  bare  in  cruel 
print  and  mimic  dialogue  the  little 
failings  hitherto  unconscious  and  un¬ 
known.  And  for  the  sake  of  a  cheap 
and  transitory  laughter  it  often  leaves 
a  wound  that  rankles  for  a  lifetime. 

My  young  friends,  who  are  to  con¬ 
duct  this  little  Goblin,  pause  and 
beware. 

For  the  essential  thing  is  that  such 
cheap  forms  of  humour  are  not  worth 
while.  Even  from  the  low  plane  of 
editorial  advantages  they  are  poor 
“copy”.  The  appeal  is  too  narrow. 
The  amusement  is  too  restricted;  and 
the  after-taste  too  bitter. 

If  the  contents  of  a  college  paper 
are  nothing  more  than  college  jokes 
upon  the  foibles  of  professors  and 
fellow-students,  the  paper  is  not  worth 
printing.  Such  matter  had  better  be 
set  forth  with  a  gum  machine  upon 
a  piece  of  foolscap  and  circulated 
surreptitiously  round  the  benches  of 
the  class  room. 

If  the  editors  of  the  Goblin  are 
wise  they  will  never  encourage  or 
accept  contributions  that  consist  of 
mere  personal  satire.  If  a  student  is 
as  fat  as  Fatty  Arbuckle  himself  let 
him  pass  his  four  years  unrecorded  in 
the  piece  due  to  his  weight.  If  a 
professor  is  as  thin  as  a  parallel  of 

36 


latitude  let  no  number  of  the  Goblin 
ever  chronicle  the  fact. 

At  the  end  of  every  sermon  there 
is,  so  far  as  I  remember,  a  part  of  it 
that  is  called  the  benediction.  It  con¬ 
sists  in  invoking  a  blessing  upon  the 
hearers.  This  I  do  now.  I  should  not 
have  written  in  such  premonitory 
criticism  of  the  Goblin  if  I  did  not 
feel  myself  deeply  interested  in  its 
fortunes.  I  think  that  a  journal  of  this 
kind  fills  a  great  place  in  the  life  of 
a  university.  As  a  wholesome  correc¬ 
tive  of  the  pedantry  and  priggishness 
which  is  the  reverse  side  of  scholar¬ 
ship  it  has  no  equal.  It  can  help  to 
give  to  the  outlook  of  its  readers  a 
better  perspective  and  a  truer  propor¬ 
tion  than  is  apt  to  be  found  in  the 
cramped  vision  induced  by  the  formal 
pursuit  of  learning.  In  the  surround¬ 
ings  of  your  University  and  your 
province  it  has,  I  think,  a  peculiar 
part  to  play.  You  are  in  great  need  of 
the  genial  corrective  of  the  humorous 
point  of  view.  You  live  in  an  atmo¬ 
sphere  somewhat  overcharged  with 
public  morality.  The  virtue  that  sur¬ 
rounds  you  is  passing  —  so  it  some¬ 
times  seems  to  more  sinful  outsiders 
—  into  austerity. 

In  other  words,  to  put  it  briefly, 
you  are  in  a  bad  way.  Your  under¬ 
graduates,  if  they  were  well  advised, 
would  migrate  to  the  larger  atmo¬ 
sphere  and  the  more  human  culture 
of  McGill.  But  if  they  refuse  to  do 
that,  I  know  nothing  that  will  benefit 
them  more  than  the  publication  of  a 
journal  such  as  yours  is  destined,  I 
hope,  to  be. 

university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


The  Goblin's  Editor 
adds  a  footnote 


James  A.  Cowan 


In  the  twenties,  starting  immedi¬ 
ately  post-war,  there  was  a  cam¬ 
pus  epidemic  in  America  of 
undergraduate  periodicals  known  as 
the  college  comics.  The  University  of 
Toronto  was  no  exception. 

In  Toronto,  it  was  The  Goblin 
which  published  its  first  issue  in  Feb¬ 
ruary  1921.  The  issue  was  noteworthy 
for  the  fact  that  its  lead  article  was 
by  Stephen  Leacock. 

It  was  the  opening  of  Hart  House 
which  sparked  a  wide  range  of  extra¬ 
curricular  activities  including  Hart 
House  Theatre.  It  had  audiences  of 
course  but  in  the  days  of  its  first 
director,  Canadian-born  Roy  Mitchell 
who  had  deserted  Greenwich  Village 
for  Queen’s  Park,  the  action  was  back- 
stage. 

Among  other  oddities,  it  attracted 
young  students  interested  in  arguing 
about  writing  from  which  the  found¬ 
ing  group  of  The  Goblin  emerged. 
It  was  agreed  that  since  college 
comics  were  the  in-thing  with  univer¬ 
sities  such  as  Yale  and  Harvard,  the 
University  of  Toronto  should  have 
one. 

The  original  nucleus  of  six  or  eight 
members  made  this  decision  and  one 
other  which  was  equally  important. 


This  was  to  seek  outside  adult  counsel. 
On  the  editorial  side,  Joe  McDougall, 
now  Joseph  Easton  McDougall,  author 
and  advertising  executive,  wrote  to 
Stephen  Leacock  for  advice.  The  late 
W.  H.  Moore,  who  later  became  a 
national  political  figure  and  chairman 
of  the  Tariff  Board  at  Ottawa,  was 
our  authority  on  business  matters.  He 
also  owned  a  printing  plant  with 
available  office  space. 

It  was  he  who  advised  that  the 
publisher  should  be  an  off-campus, 
student-owned  company.  The  same 
advice  in  the  interests  of  freedom  of 
expression  was  given  by  two  pro¬ 
fessors,  Gilbert  Jackson,  the  economist, 
and  Alan  Coventry,  Professor  of  Em¬ 
bryology  and  also  Hart  House 
Theatre’s  stage  manager. 

The  first  serious  problem  developed 
when  the  group  went  corporate.  It 
had  by  this  time  a  well-organized 
undergraduate  management,  editorial, 
advertising  and  circulation,  but  when 
it  became  a  question  of  electing  di¬ 
rectors,  all  executives  were  under  21 
years  of  age,  children  under  the  law 
and  ineligible.  Stand-ins  were  pro¬ 
vided  but  the  working  executive  held 
the  view  that  as  minors,  it  couldn’t 
be  sued,  individually  or  collectively, 


April  1970 


37 


a  point  on  which  no  definitive  ruling 
was  ever  given. 

The  total  surplus  cash  of  The  Gob¬ 
lin  staff  had  been  sunk  in  publication 
of  the  first  issue.  It  purely  had  to 
sell.  Distribution  was  restricted  to 
the  campus  with  appointed  sales 
representatives  in  each  building  work¬ 
ing  on  5  cents  per  copy  commissions. 
In  St.  Michael’s  College,  the  ap¬ 
pointee  was  Paul  Martin,  now  Hon. 
Paul  Martin  and  Leader  of  the  Senate. 
The  first  Goblin  sold  out  in  hours  and, 
almost  equally  well,  a  reprint.  Later 
issues  were  also  sold  on  newsstands 
and  at  its  peak,  the  publication  had 
national  circulation. 

With  public  sale,  there  was  a  totally 
unexpected  reaction.  Unsolicited  con¬ 
tributions  poured  in.  The  quality  of 
the  artwork  was  outstanding.  Ob¬ 
viously  much  of  it  was  coming  from 
professionals.  Guy  Rutter  of  Toronto 
became  a  regular  contributor  both  of 
covers  in  colours  and  drawings  in 
black  and  white.  His  elegant  sketches 
of  co-eds  in  the  opinion  of  Canadian 
readers,  topped  those  of  John  Held 
Jr.,  who  led  the  U.S.  league  in  this 
field.  Guy  Rutter  would  undoubtedly 
have  earned  international  recognition 
had  not  a  wartime  injury  to  his  right 
arm  severely  restricted  his  output. 

Much  of  the  editorial  material  for 
Goblin  was  staff  written.  In  the  col¬ 
lege  comic  field,  it  also  became  stan¬ 
dard  practice  to  use  short  items  from 
other  similar  publications  as  fillers  but 
with  due  credit  in  every  instance. 
Of  the  two-line  question-and-answer 
quips  then  popular  as  cartoon  mate¬ 

38 


rial,  a  Toronto  favorite  was:  Does 
Mr.  Smith,  a  college  student  live 
here?  Typical  punch  lines  were:  “Yes, 
carry  him  in”  and  “He  lives  here  but 
I  thought  he  was  a  night  watchman”. 
Of  the  total  submitted  in  this  case, 
approximately  three  per  cent  achieved 
publication.  A  staff  favorite  was  a 
prizewinning  short  verse  in  the  style 
of  the  twenties  which  proved  to  have 
been  written  by  a  distinguished  Cana¬ 
dian  lawyer: 

W hat  is  this  thing  which  shakes 
its  shaggy  head  at  me? 

It  is  a  rose. 

Thank  God  for  roses 

Is  my  diagnosis. 

Of  the  lengthy  list  over  the  years 
of  Goblin  workers  and  contributors, 
relatively  few  chose  journalism  as 
their  careers.  Most  graduated  into  the 
professions.  But  of  the  original  share¬ 
holders,  five  became  nationally  known 
in  advertising  including  Joe  Mc- 
Dougall.  Keith  Crombie  and  Bill 
Baker  headed  agencies  carrying  their 
own  names.  Hawk  Harshaw,  an  entre¬ 
preneur  type,  undertook  to  compete 
with  outdoor  advertising  by  develop¬ 
ing  indoor  advertising  in  street  cars 
and  buses.  The  late  Clarke  Ashworth 
after  a  short  period  as  a  Beaverbrook 
war  correspondent  became  a  vice- 
president  of  what  is  today  MacLaren 
Advertising. 

The  original  Leacock  sermon  was 
taken  seriously  from  the  date  of  its 
receipt  and  became  editorial  policy. 
Except,  that  is,  for  the  last  para¬ 
graph. 

university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


The  following  is  a  condensation  (by  Professor  Dekmejian)  of  his  longer  paper 
read  at  the  Third  Annual  Meeting  of  the  Middle  East  Studies  Association  in 
Toronto  last  November.  The  full-length  version  will  be  a  chapter  in  the 
author’s  forthcoming  book,  The  Dynamics  of  Egyptian  Politics. 

The 

* 

Egyptian  Power  Elite 

1952-1969 


Richard  Hrair  Dekmejian 


Political  development  in  non- 
Western  states  entails  the  pro¬ 
gressive  creation  of  leadership 
groups  which  become  the  agents  of 
the  modernization  process.  To  a  sig¬ 
nificant  degree,  the  success  or  failure 
of  these  new  states  to  reach  nation- 
statehood  will  depend  on  the  training, 
capabilities,  and  effectiveness  of  their 
leaders.  It  follows  that,  in  relative 
terms,  the  roles  of  political  elites  in 
the  non-Western  states  are  far  more 


pervasive,  crucial  and  therefore  more 
important  than  that  of  Western 
leaders. 

Yet  despite  the  centrality  of  their 
roles,  the  study  of  Afro-Asian  elites 
has  been  largely  neglected  until  re¬ 
cently.  Due  to  the  obvious  difficulties 
in  data  gathering  and  a  lack  of 
scholarly  effort,  much  of  our  knowl¬ 
edge  has  been  based  on  journalistic 
reporting  and  impressionistic  scholar¬ 
ship.  In  the  case  of  Egypt,  the  most 


Richard  Hrair  Dekmejian  is  Associate  Professor  of  Political  Science  at  the 
State  University  of  New  York  at  Binghamton.  A  graduate  of  Columbia 
University’s  Middle  East  Institute,  Professor  Dekmejian  specializes  in  Middle 
Eastern  and  African  Politics.  This  study  was  completed  through  grants  from 
SUNY-Binghamton’s  Southwest  Asian,  North  African  Program  and  the  Center 
for  Comparative  Political  Research. 


April  1970 


39 


populous  and  developed  of  the  Arab 
states,  the  political  system  was  labelled 
a  'military  dictatorship’  after  the  offi¬ 
cers’  coup  of  July  1952.  While  accu¬ 
rate  in  certain  respects,  this  appela- 
tion  hid  a  number  of  realities  about 
the  Egyptian  leadership,  including  its 
civilian  component. 

The  present  study  of  certain  facets 
of  Egypt’s  leadership  between  Sep¬ 
tember  1952  and  October  1969  fo¬ 
cuses  on  131  cabinet-level  leaders  — 
Prime  Ministers,  Deputy  Prime  Minis¬ 
ters,  Ministers,  Deputy  Ministers,  as 
well  as  Presidents,  Vice-Presidents, 
other  members  of  super-cabinets.  The 
basic  approach  utilized  in  studying 
these  individuals  is  empirical  and  is 
centered  on  several  key  questions: 
where  do  political  leaders  come  from 
in  Egyptian  society;  how  do  they 
become  and  how  long  do  they  remain 
leaders;  what  techniques  do  they  use; 
how  much  co-operation  and  conflict  is 
there  among  them;  and  what  happens 
to  them  after  they  leave  their  po¬ 
sitions  of  rulership.  In  short,  the 
inquiry  centres  on  the  sources,  re¬ 
cruitment  patterns,  cohesion,  strate¬ 


gies,  tenure,  and  disposition  of  131 
leaders  —  factors  that  determine  what 
is  often  called  the  "circulation  of 
elites.”  A  summary  of  some  of  the 
findings  is  presented  below. 

Who  is  Who:  Militanj  vs.  Civilian 

After  their  successful  takeover  of 
power  in  July  1952,  the  Free  Officers 
reconstituted  themselves  as  the  Revo¬ 
lutionary  Command  Council.  The 
aims  of  the  RCC  were  to  set  general 
policy  guidelines  for  a  new  civilian 
cabinet  under  Premier  Ali  Maher. 
However,  after  their  unsuccessful  ex¬ 
periments  with  three  all-civilian  cabi¬ 
nets  between  July  1952  and  Dec. 
1952,  the  RCC’s  leading  members 
came  forth  to  assume  key  cabinet 
posts  in  June  1953.  What  followed 
was  a  mass  infusion  of  officers  into 
key  bureaucratic  positions  for  pur¬ 
poses  of  control  and  supervision.  In¬ 
deed,  at  least  some  of  the  politically 
unreliable  bureaucrats  of  the  old 
regime  had  to  be  replaced  by  persons 
who  combined  political  loyalty  and 
administrative  expertise  —  qualities 
that  were  readily  found  mostly  in 


*  Table  1 


Aggregate  Breakdown:  Military  vs.  Civilians 


Classification 

% 

# 

Total  Military 

% 

Officers 

20.3 

27 

44 

61.4 

Officers-Technocrats 

13 

17 

33.3 

38.6 

Civilians 

66.7 

87 

Total 

100 

131 

40 


university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


military  officers.  While  detailed  in¬ 
formation  is  unavailable  on  the  extent 
and  depth  of  the  military’s  ‘presence’ 
in  the  system,  it  is  evident  that  at  the 
highest  and  intermediary  levels  there 
was  overwhelming  predominance. 

In  purely  quantitative  terms  the 
precise  degree  of  the  military’s  pres¬ 
ence  at  the  very  top  of  the  power 
structure  is  reflected  in  Table  1*.  At 
the  aggregate  level,  out  of  131  top 
leaders,  44  or  33.3%  had  been  military 
officers  of  various  types,  in  contrast  to 
87  or  66.6%  who  had  a  civilian  back¬ 
ground.  However,  the  2  to  1  numeri¬ 
cal  superiority  of  civilians  over  offi¬ 
cers  should  not  be  misleading;  while 
it  clearly  illustrates  the  extent  of  the 
regime’s  reliance  on  civilian  elites, 
especially  in  technical  areas,  in  no 
sense  is  it  to  be  regarded  as  a  valid 
index  of  their  relative  power.  Clearly, 
these  civilians  were  creatures  of  the 
military  —  the  members  of  the  RCC 
and  subsequently  of  the  President 
himself.  Since  each  lacked  an  inde¬ 
pendent  power  base,  none  of  the  87 
emerged  as  a  political  leader  in  his 
own  right,  not  even  during  the  tur¬ 
moil  of  the  post-war  period.  This, 
coupled  with  Nasir’s  persistence  in 
placing  key  ministries  in  the  hands  of 
ex-officers,  made  the  military  the 
virtual  master  of  the  system  since 
1953. 

To  be  sure,  one  of  the  peculiarities 
of  recent  Egyptian  political  life  has 
been  the  appalling  lack  of  political 
backbone  among  the  civilian  leader¬ 
ship.  These  were  mostly  men  of  great 
intelligence,  efficiency  and  expertise; 


they  were  also  a  singularly  depoliti- 
cized  lot,  devoid  of  political  and  ideo¬ 
logical  consciousness  and  therefore 
unable  or  unwilling  to  mount  a  viable 
counterweight  to  the  military.  In  the 
various  contests  of  power  at  the  top, 
the  civilians,  or  at  least  some  of  them, 
tended  to  take  sides  with  different 
factions  headed  by  ex-officers;  yet  as 
far  as  we  can  discern,  no  civilian 
actually  led  a  factional  power  strug¬ 
gle.  A  few  who  dared  to  stand  up  to 
the  military  were  purged;  the  vast 
majority,  more  interested  in  high  of¬ 
fice  than  principles,  complied  with 
the  military’s  wishes.  The  final  cost 
to  the  svstem  of  the  civilians’  com- 

J 

pliancy  and  the  military’s  aggressive¬ 
ness  was  great  in  many  respects,  es¬ 
pecially  in  the  building  of  the  ASU 
(Arab  Socialist  Union).  The  Presi¬ 
dent’s  belated  efforts  to  repoliticize 
the  civilian  centre  of  the  political 
spectrum  (to  which  most  of  the  civil¬ 
ian  leadership  belonged)  after  a  de¬ 
cade  of  strenuous  depoliticization, 
were  not  immediately  successful.  The 
conversion  of  docile  technicians  into 
politically  conscious  party-men  could 
not  be  accomplished  overnight. 

Obviously,  the  best  index  of  the 
officers’  position  within  the  leadership 
is  their  control  of  strategic  posts.  Both 
of  Egypt’s  Presidents  —  Nagib  and 
Nasir  —  had  been  officers,  as  were  all 
of  the  Vice-Presidents.  The  four  men 
who  had  successively  occupied  the 
Premiership  —  Nasir,  Sabri,  Muhyi- 
al-Din,  and  Sulaiman  —  were  also  ex¬ 
officers.  In  addition,  several  key 
ministries  —  Defense,  Local  Adminis- 


April  1970 


41 


tration,  Military  Production,  and  the 
Ministry  of  State  (for  Intelligence) 
—  have  been  headed  by  officers  from 
the  very  outset.  Certain  other  minis¬ 
tries  changed  hands  between  ex¬ 
officers  and  civilians  over  time,  i.e., 
Foreign  Affairs,  Tourism,  Industry, 
Power,  High  Dam,  Information, 
Scientific  Research,  Communication, 
Agrarian  Reform,  Supply,  Youth, 
Labor  Education,  Social  Affairs,  Plan¬ 
ning,  Waqfs,  Culture  and  National 
Guidance.  The  highly  sensitive  In¬ 
terior  Ministry  became  the  preserve 
of  ex-officers  such  as  Muhyi-al-Din 
and  Guma’a  with  the  single  excep¬ 
tion  of  Abd-al-Azim  Fahmi,  a  police 
officer.  Even  the  Ministry  of  Public 
Health  has  witnessed  a  covert  form 
of  quasi-military  intrusion  —  Muham¬ 
mad  Nassar  and  Abd  al-Wahhab 
Shukri,  the  present  minister  —  have 
both  had  long  records  of  identifica¬ 
tion  with  the  Armed  Forces  as  mili¬ 
tary  physicians.  As  for  the  Ministry 
of  National  Guidance,  the  state’s 
supreme  propaganda  agency,  it  has 
been  headed  by  successive  ex-officers 
since  1958. 

Ministries  with  uninterrupted  civil¬ 
ian  leadership  included  Justice,  Pub¬ 
lic  Works,  Housing  and  Utilities,  Ir¬ 
rigation,  Commerce,  Agriculture, 
Treasury,  and  Higher  Education. 
These  were  highly  technical  areas, 
generally  unsuitable  for  individuals 
of  military  backgrounds:  to  appoint 
an  officer  as  Minister  of  Higher  Edu¬ 
cation  would  have  been  ludicrous  at 
the  very  least.  Yet,  in  the  final  analy¬ 
sis,  various  means  were  devised  to 


42 


assure  military  control  over  these 
‘civilian’  ministries. 

In  retrospect,  three  basic  strategies 
of  control  have  been  discernible  since 
the  military’s  direct  involvement  in 
government  beginning  in  1953.  The 
first  and  crudest  strategy  consisted  of 
the  outright  takeover  of  key  ministries 
by  leading  RCC  members,  who  em¬ 
ployed  civilians  in  second-level  slots 
as  sources  of  expert  advice.  In  later 
years,  as  Vice-Presidents  and  Deputy 
Premiers  in  charge  of  clusters  of  re¬ 
lated  ministries,  or  “Sectors”,  the  lead¬ 
ing  officers  continued  to  exercise 
direct  supervisory  functions  over  the 
subordinate  ministries,  which  were 
often  headed  by  civilians.  The  second 
strategy  employed  was  to  maintain 
a  ‘military  presence’  in  the  civilian- 
led  ministries  by  placing  officers  at 
the  #2  slots,  just  below  the  top.  De¬ 
pending  on  the  organizational  make¬ 
up  of  the  particular  ministry,  the  mili¬ 
tary  appointment  could  come  at  the 
Deputy  Minister  (a  Cabinet  post),  or 
Undersecretary  (below  Cabinet)  level. 

The  military’s  most  ingenious 
method  to  perpetuate  control  centered 
on  the  advent  of  a  new  breed  of 
officers,  identified  here  as  ‘officer- 
technocrats’.  Most  of  these  men  began 
to  appear  in  leading  positions  begin- 
ing  in  the  late  fifties  and  soon 
achieved  cabinet  or  higher  status, 
often  displacing  civilians  and  other 
military  men. 

Who  were  these  officer-technocrats 
who  constituted  13%  of  Egypt’s  131 
top  elite  since  1952?  According  to  the 
classification  employed  here,  almost 

university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


all  had  been  officers  who  went  on  to 
receive  non-military  degrees  in  di¬ 
verse  fields  —  engineering,  physics, 
political  science,  law,  history,  and 
journalism.  Two  of  the  officer-tech¬ 
nocrats  were  military  physicians.  The 
best  known  among  them  was  General 
Muhammad  Nagib,  an  officer  with  a 
law  degree. 

In  essence,  the  rise  of  the  officer- 
technocrats  was  the  military’s  answer 
to  its  civilian  critics.  For  now  the 
military  had  trained  its  own  experts  to 
cope  with  the  new  and  diverse  com¬ 
plexities  of  an  industrializing  society. 
Through  these  men  the  military  could 
extend  its  scope  of  effective  control 
further  than  ever  simultaneously  re¬ 
ducing  its  reliance  on  the  civilian  ex¬ 
perts.  Given  the  views  and  needs  of 
the  leadership,  the  off-techs  were 
bound  to  succeed;  they  combined  and 
enjoyed  the  best  of  two  worlds. 

Education 

Inquiry  into  the  educational  back¬ 
grounds  of  elites  can  reveal  important 
clues  about  the  leadership’s  sense  of 
priorities,  the  direction  of  socio-poli¬ 
tical  change  as  well  as  the  political 
system  itself.  The  'officer’  category 
contains  27  individuals  whose  pri¬ 
mary  field  of  formal  study  was  mili¬ 
tary  science  in  which  they  held  at 
least  one  degree.  While  several  of 
these  pure  military  types  also  pursued 
non-military  studies,  none  of  them 
actually  completed  the  requirements 
for  academic  degrees.  In  contrast,  the 
officer-technocrats  went  beyond  the 
confines  of  a  military  education  to 


obtain  academic  degrees  in  non-mili¬ 
tary  fields.  Among  the  87  civilian 
leaders,  there  were  19  engineers  — 
the  largest  single  specialization  cate¬ 
gory.  In  percentage  terms,  the  en¬ 
gineers  represent  over  20%  of  the 
total  leadership  since  Sept.  1952  and 
as  such  reflect  the  regime’s  singular 
commitment  to  rapid  industrialization. 

The  stress  on  general  economic  de¬ 
velopment  is  further  reflected  by  the 
relatively  high  number  of  agrono¬ 
mists  (9),  chemists  (4)  and  econo¬ 
mists  (15).  Moreover,  the  9  agrono¬ 
mists  are  indicative  of  Egypt’s  serious 
food  problem.  Among  the  social 
sciences,  the  more  traditional  field  of 
geography  (5)  is  ‘over-represented’ 
in  contrast  to  sociology  ( 1 ) .  The  field 
of  law  claims  a  high  proportion  of 
the  elites,  especially  when  the  two 
military  lawyers  are  added  to  19  civil¬ 
ian  lawyers,  for  a  total  of  21.  But  the 
fact  that  the  number  of  lawyers  falls 
short  of  the  military  or  engineer 
categories  clearly  indicates  the  secon¬ 
dary  role  played  by  the  former  in 
Egypt,  in  contrast  to  many  other 
countries,  especially  the  United 
States.  Furthermore,  there  has  been  a 
decline  of  lawyers  and  a  concomi¬ 
tant  increase  in  technical  specialists 
since  1952.  A  heavily  lawyer-orien¬ 
tated  culture  before  the  revolution, 
Egypt  continued  to  rely  on  the  services 
of  lawyer-politicians  in  the  early  years 
of  the  revolution.  With  the  advent  of 
planned,  accelerated  socio-economic 
development  that  required  technical 
specialists,  the  lawyers’  utility  gradu¬ 
ally  declined.  As  ‘generalists’  the  law- 


April  1970 


43 


yers  lacked  the  specialized  training  to 
cope  with  the  new  technological  en¬ 
vironment.  Politically,  the  military- 
revolutionary  milieu  proved  incom¬ 
patible  to  the  lawyer.  Not  only  was 
he  too  closely  identified  with  the  pre¬ 
revolutionary  political  culture,  but 
also  his  traditional  ‘brokerage’  func¬ 
tions  were  not  needed  in  the  new 
society.  Legalistic,  competitive  poli¬ 
tics  and  economics  had  been  replaced 
by  ideological,  revolutionary  politics, 
and  the  lawyer  became  the  odd-man 
out;  his  status  is  not  likely  to  change 
in  the  foreseeable  future. 

A  striking  aspect  of  the  cross  na¬ 
tional  study  of  leaders  is  the  relatively 
high  level  of  education  possessed  by 
elites  in  certain  developing  countries. 
On  the  basis  of  preliminary  investiga¬ 
tions,  it  seems  that  the  general  educa¬ 
tional  level  of  cabinet-level  leaders  in 
a  number  of  developing  countries  ac¬ 
tually  exceeds  that  of  corresponding 
Western  elites.  While  the  identifica¬ 
tion  of  the  causal  factors  behind  this 
phenomenon  fall  outside  the  scope  of 
this  study,  it  seems  that  countries 
committed  to  rapid  modernization 
feel  a  greater  actual  and  psychologi¬ 
cal  need  to  have  trained  experts  at 
the  top.  To  a  large  extent  this  has 
been  the  case  in  modern  Egypt.  Out 
of  131  leaders  only  one  lacked  a  col¬ 
lege  education.  Yet  the  more  impres¬ 
sive  fact  is  the  unusually  high  number 
of  those  holding  doctorates  —  over 
47%.  In  other  words  there  were  almost 
as  many  doctorates  as  the  B.A.’s  and 
M.A.’s  combined. 

Despite  France’s  greater  cultural 


influence  on  Egypt,  a  larger  number 
of  leaders  went  to  Britain  and  the 
United  States  for  purposes  of  study. 
Although  France  educated  fewer 
Egyptian  leaders,  her  ideological  in¬ 
fluence  —  especially  of  the  French 
left  —  seems  to  have  been  greater 
than  that  of  the  United  States  and 
Britain  combined.  A  partial  explana¬ 
tion  might  be  found  in  the  particular 
specializations  studied  in  the  latter 
countries  which  in  most  cases  were  of 
a  technical  nature.  In  contrast,  al¬ 
most  all  of  those  who  went  to  France 
studied  law  and/or  political  economy. 
As  far  as  we  know  not  a  single  one  of 
the  131  received  a  degree  from  a 
Soviet  institution  or  even  stayed  there 
for  specialized  training  for  any  length 
of  time,  except  official  visits. 

The  largest  share  of  higher  educa¬ 
tion  was  borne  by  Egyptian  univer¬ 
sities,  especially  at  the  Bachelors  and 
Masters  level  and  increasingly  at  the 
Doctorate.  In  view  of  the  high  cost 
of  foreign  education,  the  increasing 
diversity  of  offerings  at  Egypt’s  five 
universities  and  the  well  known  reluc¬ 
tance  of  the  foreign  educated  to  re¬ 
turn  to  Egypt,  one  can  anticipate  a 
sharp  decrease  in  the  number  of  those 
studying  abroad.  Despite  its  obvious 
benefits,  any  significant  curtailment 
will  tend  to  push  the  country’s  higher 
education  into  intellectual  isolation 
and  stagnation. 

As  a  result  of  the  induction  of  a 
large  number  of  civilians  into  the 
leadership,  it  is  possible  to  point  to 
the  emergence  of  a  new  salaried  “mid¬ 
dle  class”  of  modernizing  elites  in 


44 


university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


Egypt  —  as  is  the  case  in  many  other 
developing  states.  But  the  notion  that 
these  new  elites  are  joined  together 
by  education  and  skills  is  found  to  be 
incorrect  with  respect  to  Egypt.  Fur¬ 
thermore,  the  assumption  that  the 
new  men  are  ideologically  uncommit¬ 
ted,  at  least  for  the  time  being  ap¬ 
pears  to  be  faulty.  Indeed,  beyond 
their  self-image  of  being  “modern 
men”  and  their  total  commitment  to 
rapid  modernization,  there  exists  no 
common  bonds  to  unify  the  emerging 
new  class. 

Beginning  in  the  early  ’60’s  there 
appeared  unmistakable  tendencies 
among  the  Egyptian  elite  toward  bi¬ 
furcation  along  several  lines.  The 
events  since  June  1967  have  con¬ 
firmed  the  existence  of  these  cleav¬ 
ages.  First,  there  was  the  disunity 
among  the  remaining  members  of 
the  Free  Officers’  “core”.  The  hidden 
Nasir-Amir  controversy  represented 
one  aspect  of  this  disunity.  It  was 
also  symptomatic  of  division  within 
the  military  establishment  itself. 

During  the  same  period,  there  were 
growing  signs  of  ideological  cleavage 
among  the  elite,  also  confirmed  by  the 
controversies  in  the  aftermath  of  the 
1967  war.  In  mid- 1965,  the  ideologi¬ 
cal  bifurcation  was  exemplified  by 
the  rivalry  between  Ali  Sabri  and 
Zakariyya  Muhyi  al-Din,  as  well  as 
by  Nasir’s  repeated  mention  of  the 
role  of  “Communists”  in  Egypt.  The 
lack  of  ideological  consensus  has  been 
exacerbated  since  the  war. 

A  third  dimension  of  potentially 
serious  cleavage  which  has  been  dis¬ 


cernible  since  the  war  is  the  officer 
vs.  civilian  dichotomy.  The  growing 
number  of  civilians  in  the  leadership 
constitutes  a  potential  source  of  con¬ 
flict.  As  the  country  develops  indus¬ 
trially  and  politically,  the  regime  in¬ 
escapably  and  increasingly  will  have 
to  depend  on  highly  trained  engin¬ 
eers,  scientists,  educators  and  the  like 
whose  administrative-technical  exper¬ 
tise  is  greatly  superior  to  the  junior 
college  level  education  of  the  officer 
class  given  at  the  Military  Academy. 
Therefore,  it  is  conceivable  that  in 
time  this  rapidly  growing  sector  of 
the  “middle”  class  may  challenge  the 
predominant  position  of  the  officer 
class  by  virtue  of  its  superior  training 
and  importance.  Thus,  its  members 
may  resent  the  supervision  exercised 
over  them  by  the  less  competent  mili¬ 
tary  and  not  only  demand  additional 
key  posts  in  the  power  structure  but 
also  a  larger  voice  in  policy  formula¬ 
tion. 

A  similar  danger  that  is  already 
perceivable  is  bifurcation  within  the 
civilian  sector  of  the  nebulous  “middle 
class”.  This  may  happen  between  in¬ 
groups  and  out-groups,  as  in  the  case 
of  college  professors  and  engineers 
who  want  to  gain  entrance  into  high 
governmental  positions.  More  crucial 
is  the  alienation  of  the  lower,  less  af¬ 
fluent  levels  of  the  “middle  class” 
whose  material  and  prestige  expecta¬ 
tions  go  unfulfilled.  Yet  despite  these 
divisions,  the  “middle  class”  is  judged 
to  be  able  to  confront  and  defeat  any 
challenge  by  traditional  Egyptian 
groups. 


April  1970 


45 


Three  of  Israel’s  universities  are  described  by  a  professor  in  the  U  of  T 
School  of  Social  Work  who  visited  Israel  with  his  family  last  summer 


Universities 
in  Israel 

Benjamin  Schlesinger 


In  1968,  Israel  had  a  population  of 
2,850,000  of  whom  25  per  cent 
were  in  the  15-19  year  range  and 
33.4  per  cent  in  the  0-14  age  cate¬ 
gory.  The  combined  enrolment  of  Is¬ 
rael’s  higher  education  institutions  is 
about  30,000  students.  The  expendi¬ 
ture  of  these  institutions  runs  to  250 
million  Israeli  pounds  ($83.3  million) 
per  year  of  which  one  half  is  met  by 
the  government. 

The  Hebrew  University 

The  Hebrew  University  of  Jerusa¬ 
lem,  with  its  four  campuses  at  Mount 
Scopus,  Givat  Ram,  Ein  Karem  and 
Rehovot,  is  the  world  s  largest  Jewish 
institution  of  higher  learning.  The 
University  sets  itself  a  threefold  aim: 
—  To  serve  the  cause  of  human  pro¬ 
gress  by  extending  the  boundaries  of 
knowledge  in  all  areas  of  study  and 
especially  by  offering  its  cooperation 
to  the  developing  countries; 

46 


—  To  serve  the  Jewish  people  by 
creating  a  living  centre  of  national 
culture  and  scholarship  and  strength¬ 
ening  the  bonds  between  Israel  and 
the  Diaspora; 

—  To  serve  Israel  by  participating  in 
the  creation  of  its  national  culture, 
training  qualified  professionals  for 
leadership  roles  in  the  country’s  de¬ 
velopment,  and  working  towards  the 
solution  of  the  country’s  diverse  scien¬ 
tific  and  social  problems. 

—  The  seven  Faculties  and  four 
Schools  of  the  Hebrew  University 
welcome  students  from  all  over  the 
world,  irrespective  of  race,  creed  or 
colour,  who  join  with  the  Israeli  stu¬ 
dents,  Jews  and  Arabs  alike,  in  devot¬ 
ing  themselves  to  the  highest  ideals 
of  a  university  education  —  the  un¬ 
ending,  fearless  quest  for  truth  in  all 
fields. 

The  Mount  Scopus  Campus :  The 
founding  of  the  Hebrew  University 

university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


on  Mount  Scopus  in  1918  was  an  act 
of  faith  in  the  capacity  of  the  Jewish 
people  to  build  its  future,  a  declara¬ 
tion  of  the  people’s  determination  to 
create  the  conditions  for  a  spiritual 
renaissance  which  would  inspire  and 
guide  the  new  society  they  were  pio¬ 
neering  in  their  Homeland. 

Following  the  opening  of  the  Uni¬ 
versity  in  1925,  development  pro¬ 
ceeded  apace.  But  in  1948,  Mount 
Scopus  was  severed  from  Israel’s  capi¬ 
tal  city  and  for  nineteen  years  it  re¬ 
mained  a  lone,  inaccessible,  Israeli- 
held  enclave  in  enemy  territory. 
Three  other  campuses  were  developed 
to  meet  the  pressures  of  Israel’s  higher 
educational  needs  —  but  the  dream  of 
a  return  to  Mount  Scopus  never 
faded. 

On  June  7,  1967,  Israeli  troops 
liberating  the  Old  City  of  Jerusalem 
once  again  opened  the  road  to  Mount 
Scopus  and  the  dream  was  realised. 
In  a  gesture  of  identification  with  the 
future,  young  volunteers  from  abroad 
began  clearing  away  the  rubble  of 
twenty  years  of  tragic  neglect.  One 
year  later,  on  the  fiftieth  anniversary 
of  the  foundation  of  the  Hebrew  Uni¬ 
versity,  the  foundation  stones  of  a 
new  University  City  were  laid  on 
Mount  Scopus  —  the  beginning  of  a 
dynamic  program  that  will  restore 
life  and  learning  to  this  historic  hill¬ 
side. 

The  main  endeavour  in  the  rebuild¬ 
ing  of  Mount  Scopus  will  be  concen¬ 
trated  on  the  establishment  of  under¬ 
graduate  and  graduate  student  resi¬ 
dences  to  provide  campus  accommo¬ 


dation  for  up  to  8000  students,  with 
initial  plans  calling  for  a  resident  stu¬ 
dent  body  of  2500  by  1970.  Building 
is  already  fast  proceeding,  and  the 
first  students  moved  into  temporary 
accommodation  on  the  hillside’s  lower 
slopes  in  August  1968. 

In  the  first  phase  of  reconstruction, 
the  Faculty  of  Law  and  all  the  first- 
year  courses  of  the  Faculty  of  Science 
will  make  their  home  in  restored  and 
new  buildings  on  the  campus.  New 
building  will  also  include  the  Harry 
S  Truman  Centre  for  the  Advance¬ 
ment  of  Peace,  the  Martin  Buber 
Centre  for  Adult  Education,  and  a 
centre  providing  facilities  for  a  prep¬ 
aratory  course  the  University  offers 
to  Israelis,  Jews  and  Arabs  alike,  and 
overseas  students,  who  —  because  of 
their  lack  of  a  sufficiently  broad  cul¬ 
tural  background  —  need  special  train¬ 
ing  before  entering  the  University. 

In  returning  to  Scopus,  the  Univer¬ 
sity  is  embarking  on  an  expansion 
plan  that  will  not  only  revitalise  the 
original  campus,  but  will  also  permit 
the  implementation  of  long-range  pro¬ 
grams  for  extending  facilities  to  cope 
with  the  ever-growing  demands  for 
higher  education  from  both  Israeli 
students  and  those  from  abroad. 

The  Students :  The  student  body  at 
the  Hebrew  University  reflects  the 
cultural  diversity  which  typifies  Israel. 
While  many  students  are  Israel-born, 
large  numbers  were  born  in  Europe, 
Latin  America,  North  and  South 
Africa,  Asia  and  North  America.  Of 
the  Israel-born,  it  is  gratifying  to  note 
a  steady  rise  in  the  number  of  Arab 


April  1970 


47 


and  Druze  students  in  all  Faculties. 
In  recent  years  the  Hebrew  Univer¬ 
sity  has  organised  special  courses  for 
students  from  the  developing  states 
of  Africa  and  Asia,  and  in  addition  to 
these  a  considerable  number  of  indi¬ 
vidual  students  from  abroad  have 
been  drawn  to  the  University  every 
year  for  the  particular  facilities  it 
offers  in  numerous  specialised  fields. 

The  Israeli  students,  local-born  and 
immigrants  alike,  are  a  cross-section 
of  Israeli  society.  In  the  main  they 
are  older  than  their  counterparts 
abroad,  since  they  come  to  University 
after  their  army  service.  Most  of 
them,  owing  both  to  their  home  cir¬ 
cumstances  and  to  a  disinclination  to 
financial  dependence  on  their  parents, 
take  part-time  and  even  full-time  em¬ 
ployment  to  finance  their  tuition  and 
living  expenses.  Fees  are  deliberately 
kept  to  a  low  figure  which  today 
stands  at  between  IL  700  ($235)  and 
IL  800  ($270)  and  the  University 
makes  every  endeavour  to  help  stu¬ 
dents  by  the  provision  of  subsidised 
accommodation,  meals,  and  the  grant¬ 
ing  of  scholarships  and  loans.  But  with 
the  constant  rise  in  the  number  of  stu¬ 
dents  enrolled,  only  some  10  to  15 
per  cent  can  be  accommodated  in 
the  University’s  hostels.  It  is  to  ease 
the  immense  financial  burden  thus 
created  that  a  major  drive  to  remedy 
the  situation  is  now  in  progress 
through  plans  for  the  construction  of 
the  new  Mount  Scopus  University 
City. 

The  Students  Organization,  an  in¬ 
dependent  student  body  many  of 
whose  activities  are  subsidised  by  the 


University,  organizes  an  active  sports, 
cultural  and  entertainment  program, 
and  runs  its  own  bookshop  and  dupli¬ 
cating  service  to  reproduce  lecture 
notes  and  other  texts.  Extra-curricula 
activities  include  an  orchestra  and 
folk-dancing  troupe,  a  dramatic  group 
and  the  publication  of  a  weekly  news¬ 
paper.  The  students  also  organize 
their  own  employment  agency  which 
finds  jobs  for  those  who  must  support 
themselves.  Services  for  students  in¬ 
clude  health  and  psychological  coun¬ 
selling  services,  loans,  and  subsidised 
cafeterias. 

Overseas  Student  Programs :  The 
University  organizes  special  programs 
for  overseas  students  who  are  quali¬ 
fied  for  admission.  These  students 
may  choose  their  program  of  studies 
from  among  the  various  courses 
taught  at  the  University,  but  must 
enrol  in  at  least  two  courses  of  Jewish 
studies  and  take  at  least  8  hours  of 
classes  per  week  in  which  the  lan¬ 
guage  of  instruction  is  Hebrew. 
Exams  may  be  written  in  English  or 
any  language  which  the  instructor 
understands. 

The  One  Year  Study  Program  for 
North  American  Students  corresponds 
to  the  Junior  Year  Abroad  Program 
run  by  many  American  universities. 
In  addition  to  special  courses  in  Jew¬ 
ish  studies,  students  in  this  program 
pursue  the  regular  course  in  their 
chosen  field  and  are  given  full  credit 
for  these  courses  by  their  own  col¬ 
leges. 

A  special  3-month  intensive  He¬ 
brew  course,  offered  on  the  campus 
( Continued  on  page  82) 


48 


Birth  of  a  trysting  place 
for  mind  and  mind 


In  the  presence  of  what  the 
Toronto  Globe  described  as  “a 
brilliant  company  gathered  on  a 
platform  under  the  trees”,  the  Lieu¬ 
tenant-Governor  of  Ontario  and  Visi¬ 
tor  of  the  University  of  Toronto,  Sir 
William  Mortimer  Clark  on  June  10, 
1904  laid  the  cornerstone  of  “Convo¬ 
cation  and  Alumni  Hall”,  the  name 


then  bestowed  upon  the  University’s 
central  meeting  place.  Along  with 
other  relics  in  the  Clark  estate  the 
trowel  used  on  that  occasion  came 
into  the  possession  of  the  Presbyterian 
Church.  This  year  the  Clerk  of  the 
General  Assembly,  Rev.  L.  H.  Fowler, 
presented  it  to  President  Claude 
Bissell,  above,  who  turned  it  over  to 


49 


Professor  Humphrey  Milnes,  Uni¬ 
versity  College  Archivist,  for  safe¬ 
keeping. 

The  original  Convocation  Hall  in 
the  east  wing  of  University  College 
was  destroyed  by  the  fire  of  1890. 
Ten  years  later,  when  the  alumni 
were  discussing  a  replacement  for  the 
memorial  window  (also  destroyed  in 
the  fire)  they  were  urged  to  raise  their 
sights  by  Dr.  R.  A.  Reeve,  Dean  of 
Medicine  and  president  of  the  newly 
established  University  of  Toronto 
Alumni  Association. 

Dr.  Reeve  suggested  a  memorial 
hall  which  “would  now  more  fully 
commemorate  the  heroism  of  the  men 
who  fought  and  fell  at  Ridgeway  (in 
the  1866  Fenian  Raid);  and,  in  addi¬ 
tion,  be  a  most  timely  memorial  to 
the  patriotism  of  those  who  have  suf¬ 
fered  in  South  Africa,  fighting  in  de¬ 
fence  of  the  Empire.”  The  building, 
Dr.  Reeve  suggested,  “would  ever  be 
a  splendid  object  lesson,  pointing  a 
moral  of  high  order  to  the  flower  of 
the  youth  of  our  country,  who  flock 
to  its  greatest  seat  of  learning.” 

Since  no  funds  were  available  for 
such  a  project,  the  general  public, 
Dr.  Reeve  asserted,  “should  feel  it 
their  duty  to  help  in  this  event,  espe¬ 
cially  as  the  present  disability  is  not 
the  fault  of  the  University  authori¬ 
ties”,  and  alumni  “have  a  double 
duty,  to  give  on  their  own  part  and  to 
urge  others  to  give”.  A  memorial  hall 
committee  of  the  U.T.A.A.  approved 
the  proposal  and  set  up  committees 
to  select  a  site,  prepare  plans,  and 
invite  subscriptions.  O.  H.  Howland, 

50 


seconding  the  motion  to  establish  a 
financing  committee,  expressed  the 
hope  that  “the  building  when  erected 
would  be  possessed  of  such  architec¬ 
tural  beauty  as  would  make  it  an 
attractive  and  instructive  monument 
as  long  as  it  should  last”. 

Three  and  a  half  years  passed  be¬ 
tween  the  time  these  decisions  were 
taken  and  the  cornerstone  was  laid. 
Many  problems  had  to  be  overcome. 
Dr.  Reeve  explained:  “The  choice  of 
the  best  available  site  —  at  the  south¬ 
west  limits  of  the  University  campus 
—  was  easier  than  securing  it 
proved  to  be”.  This  was  occupied  by 
the  Dominion  Observatory,  for  which 
another  site  had  to  be  found.  The 
architects,  Darling  and  Pearson,  de¬ 
signed  an  amphitheatre  “enabling 
the  largest  number  to  see  and  hear 
properly”. 

By  the  time  the  cornerstone  was 
laid,  $52,000  had  been  subscribed 
toward  the  anticipated  total  cost  of  a 
bit  more  than  $100,000.  “Of  this 
amount”,  said  Dr.  Reeve,  “about 
$19,000  have  been  given  by  friends, 
upwards  of  $27,000  by  graduates, 
and  —  a  most  gratifying  fact  —  up¬ 
wards  of  $5,000  by  undergraduates 
in  attendance”.  The  provincial  gov¬ 
ernment  provided  the  remainder.  Two 
years  later  Convocation  Hall  as  it 
stands  today  was  in  use.  But,  Dr. 
Reeve  regretfully  noted,  the  “view 
did  not  carry”  that  the  hall  should 
be  a  war  memorial;  it  was,  however, 
“a  trysting  place  of  mind  and  mind, 
the  play  of  fancy,  the  weight  of  argu¬ 
ment,  the  force  of  appeal”. 

university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


April  1970 


51 


An  address  to  the  Association  of  Canadian  Medical  Colleges 

21  October,  1969,  by  Ernest  Sirluck,  Vice-President  and  Graduate  Dean 


NOTES  ON  THE  CHANGING 


The  most  salient  characteristic 
of  the  Canadian  university  scene 
is  now  change,  and  its  pace  is 
quickening.  A  lengthening  list  of  tra¬ 
ditions  that  seemed  solidly  rooted 
have  been  thrust  away,  sometimes 
after  great  battles  but  sometimes  al¬ 
most  without  fuss.  The  relations  of 
the  component  estates  of  the  univer¬ 
sity  have  shifted;  new  alliances  are 
replacing  those  of  yesterday,  and  the 
old  balance  of  power  has  given  way 
to  a  struggle  for  power.  The  external 
relations  of  the  university,  both  as  an 
institution  with  its  general  commu¬ 
nity,  and  as  a  congeries  of  interests 
each  with  its  own  external  interlocu¬ 
tors,  have  grown  much  more  impor¬ 
tant  and  critical,  and  may  soon  become 
determining. 

The  most  obvious  change,  itself  in 
good  part  the  cause  of  most  of  the 
others,  is  the  change  in  size  of  the 
total  university  community  and  of 
individual  universities.  In  1958-59, 
the  full-time  university-grade  enrol¬ 
ment  in  Canada  was  a  little  under 
100,000;  in  1968-69  it  was  close  to 
300,000:  a  trebling  in  a  single  decade. 
New  institutions  have  been  estab¬ 
lished  to  accommodate  some  of  this 
growth,  but  most  of  it  has  taken  place 
within  existing  institutions  and  has 
swollen  them  to  a  size  never  contem- 


52 


plated  even  a  few  years  ago.  In  1954, 
the  Report  of  the  President  of  the 
University  of  Toronto  began  with  a 
section  entitled  “The  Crisis  of  Num¬ 
bers.”  The  level  of  enrolment  that 
seemed  so  critical  to  him  was  less 
than  10,000  full-time  students;  this 
year,  the  full-time  winter  enrolment 
alone  will  be  about  25,000. 

One  very  important  aspect  of  this 
increase  in  enrolments  is  that  while 
some  of  it  is  due  to  an  increase  in 
population,  most  of  it  comes  from  an 
increased  participation  rate.  In  the 
early  ’50s,  the  full-time  enrolment 
fluctuated  between  4  and  4/2  percent 
of  the  18-to-24-year-old  age  group;  in 
the  year  1955-56  a  steady  growth 
began,  until  in  1967-68  it  had  reached 
11.4%.  Here  is  a  multiplied  increase 
in  heterogeneity:  the  population  of 
Canada  is  much  more  heterogeneous 
than  it  was  a  couple  of  decades  ago, 
and  the  segment  of  the  population 
that  enters  the  university  is  about 
three  times  as  broad  as  it  was  then, 
and  twice  as  broad  as  a  decade  ago. 

This  greater  heterogeneity  corre¬ 
sponds  to  a  greater  diversity  in  the 
work  done  at  the  university.  Just  a 
few  years  ago  Canadians  used  to 
argue  that  the  course  in  Hotel  Man¬ 
agement  at  Cornell  was  an  illustration 
of  what  they  somewhat  condescend- 

university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


UNIVERSITY  SCENE 


ingly  described  as  the  difference  be¬ 
tween  Canadian  and  American  uni¬ 
versity  education.  Well,  Canada  has 
its  university  course  in  Hotel  Manage¬ 
ment  now,  and  in  Secretarial  Science, 
too;  it  has  programs  in  interior  de¬ 
sign,  in  counselling  and  guidance,  in 
horticulture,  and  in  a  number  of 
technologies.  It  is  hard  to  know 
which  is  cause  and  which  effect:  does 
the  growth  in  the  size  and  hetero¬ 
geneity  of  the  university  population 
lead  to  the  development  of  courses 
which  a  little  while  ago  we  would 
have  thought  to  be  unacademic  in 
nature,  or  does  the  presence  of  such 
courses  cause  the  larger  and  more 
varied  enrolment?  It  probably  works 
both  ways:  the  high  social  and  eco¬ 
nomic  value  of  a  university  degree 
sends  thousands  of  persons  onto  cam¬ 
puses  who  have  little  bent  for  the 
traditional  disciplines  and  are  glad  to 
take  something  “practical”  while  they 
pursue  their  magic  parchments;  at  the 
same  time,  there  are  other  thousands 
who  are  eager  for  vocational  prepara¬ 
tion  and  who,  in  a  continent  increas¬ 
ingly  dominated  by  the  land-grant 
college  and  state  university  traditions, 
see  nothing  incongruous  or  dangerous 
in  demanding  that  the  university  pro¬ 
vide  such  training. 

All  of  this  has  greatly  reduced  the 


difference  between  the  university  and 
the  general  community.  Until  quite 
recently,  no-one  contested  the  univer¬ 
sity’s  claim  that  it  was  a  special- 
purpose  institution  devoted  to  the 
advancement  of  learning  and  the  edu¬ 
cation  of  an  academic,  professional, 
and  social  elite.  Now  the  “advance¬ 
ment  of  learning,”  so  far  from  sepa¬ 
rating  the  university  and  the  general 
community,  is  linking  them  inex¬ 
tricably,  for  research  (as  the  advance¬ 
ment  of  learning  is  now  called)  has 
become  an  indispensable  support  of 
government,  industry,  commerce,  the 
professions,  communications,  etc.  And 
to  the  education  of  the  old  elites  has 
been  added  the  training  of  so  many 
vocational  groups  that  distinctions 
between  “learned”  and  other  callings 
are  becoming  tenuous.  The  university 
is  now  responsible  for  manpower 
training  over  so  broad  a  spectrum  that 
most  segments  of  the  community 


April  1970 


53 


have  an  immediate  relation  with  it. 
Even  those  who  do  not  recognize 
such  a  relationship  have  become 
acutely  aware  that  they  pay  increas¬ 
ingly  heavy  taxes  to  support  the  uni¬ 
versity,  and  feel  that  they  therefore 
have  a  right  to  participate  in  the 
decisions  which  determine  its  nature, 
operations,  and  budget. 

The  university  thus  finds  it  increas¬ 
ingly  difficult  to  sustain  the  role  of  a 
special-purpose  institution,  and  is 
constantly  pressed  towards  the  condi¬ 
tion  of  being  a  reflection  of  the  gen¬ 
eral  community.  This  has,  of  course, 
endless  implications:  let  me  discuss 
two  of  them  to  illustrate  the  kinds  of 
problems  that  may  rise. 

In  recent  centuries  the  university 
has  emphasized  its  detachment  from 
social  and  political  issues.  It  has  had 
very  good  reason  to  do  so,  for  when 
the  university  was  the  servant  of  a 
particular  church  or  dynasty,  each 
religious  reformation  or  dynastic  coup 
was  followed  by  a  purge  of  the  uni¬ 
versity.  With  the  advent  of  the  plu¬ 
ralistic  society,  the  university  was 
enabled  to  retire  from  such  dangerous 
immediacy  into  the  obscurity  and 
safety  of  detachment.  This  detach¬ 
ment  or  neutrality  became  one  of  the 
distinguishing  marks  of  the  modern 
university,  which  was  enabled  thereby 
to  develop  the  doctrine  of  academic 
freedom:  an  atmosphere  tolerant  of, 
and  providing  opportunity  for,  variant 
and  conflicting  viewpoints  and  every 
form  of  intellectually  responsible  criti¬ 
cism  and  persuasion,  all  premised  on 
the  postulate  that  the  university  itself 
would  remain  permanently  free  from 


all  commitment  except  to  its  own  pro¬ 
cedures.  Perhaps  this  detachment  was 
not  always  perfect:  the  accusation  is 
sometimes  made,  for  example,  that 
some  faculties  of  medicine  have  sys¬ 
tematically  taught  their  students  that 
socialized  medicine  is  wrong.  In  time 
of  upheaval,  too,  universities  often 
forget,  or  are  forced  to  put  aside, 
their  neutrality.  But,  in  ordinary  times 
and  for  the  most  part,  universities 
have  been  faithful  to  it.  Can  they 
continue  to  be  in  the  face  of  the 
changes  we  have  been  noting? 

There  are  some  ominous  signs.  For 
several  years  there  has  been  an  in¬ 
creasingly  insistent  demand  from  the 
New  Left  that  the  University,  as  they 
put  it,  free  itself  from  the  “class 
structure  of  the  industrial-military 
complex,”  because  a  “critical  univer¬ 
sity”  with  a  “relevant  curriculum”  and 
“peace-  and  justice-oriented  research,” 
a  “university  which  serves  the  people” 
and  in  which  “an  alternative  to  capi¬ 
talist  society”  can  be  developed. 
When  it  began  to  be  understood  that 
these  demands  were  made  in  earnest, 
they  were  almost  unanimously  op¬ 
posed  by  people  (often  including  the 
Old  Left)  who  believed  in  academic 
freedom  and  the  liberal  university;  it 
would  mean,  they  said,  the  supplant¬ 
ing  of  the  free  university  by  a  semi¬ 
nary  for  Marxists.  The  university 
should  provide  harborage  for  people 
who  believed  in  revolution,  but  also 
for  people  who  opposed  it;  it  must 
itself  be  uncommitted  and  neutral. 

Little  by  little,  however,  the  uni¬ 
versity  reaction  has  been  changing. 
On  this  continent,  to  which  I  will 


54 


limit  myself,  the  change  has  gone 
farthest  in  the  United  States,  but  it  is 
perceptible  in  Canada  as  well.  Three 
great  issues,  easier  to  distinguish  than 
to  separate,  have  pressed  in  upon  the 
liberal  conscience,  particularly  within 
universities:  racial  injustice,  the  war 
in  Vietnam,  and  poverty.  The  first  of 
these  did  not  at  the  outset  seem  to 
threaten  the  university’s  detachment 
too  much  because  it  was  able  to  un¬ 
dertake  a  special  response  within  it¬ 
self,  and  many  a  conscience  was 
temporarily  assuaged  by  the  decision 
of  a  number  of  universities  to  seek 
out,  recruit,  and  support  substantial 
numbers  of  black  students,  many  of 
them  uncertainly  qualified  for  the 
studies  they  were  thrown  into.  For 
perhaps  a  year,  everyone  luxuriated 
in  the  sense  of  magnanimity  that  this 
gesture  induced,  but  there  was  soon 
cause  for  it  to  be  replaced  by  more 
fearful  reflections.  The  gesture  left 
the  problem  of  racial  injustice  largely 
untouched,  and  its  consequences  have 
complicated  the  university’s  response 
to  the  other  issues. 

With  respect  to  the  second  issue: 
just  one  year  ago,  at  San  Francisco,  I 
chaired  a  panel  of  graduate  deans 
and  undergraduate  and  graduate  stu¬ 
dents  discussing  a  number  of  univer¬ 
sity  problems,  and  one  of  the  demands 
put  forward  by  the  students  was  that 
the  universities  go  on  record  against 
the  war  in  Vietnam.  The  decanal 
panelists,  and  all  members  of  the 
conference  of  graduate  deans  par¬ 
ticipating  in  the  discussion,  were 
unanimous  in  insisting  that  however 
obligatory  individual  members  of  the 


university  found  it  to  work  for  peace 
in  Vietnam,  the  universities  them¬ 
selves  must  not  take  a  stand,  since 
that  would  inevitably  undermine  the 
university’s  necessary  detachment  and 
therefore  the  academic  freedom  of  its 
members.  A  fortnight  ago,  however, 
the  Faculty  of  Arts  and  Science  at 
Harvard,  in  formal  session,  resolved 
by  a  large  majority  that  the  United 
States  should  withdraw  its  forces  from 
Vietnam.  Similar  action  was  taken  by 
senates  and  faculties  in  other  univer¬ 
sities.  A  few  days  ago  I  asked  the 
Vice-Chancellor  of  one  of  the  cam¬ 
puses  of  the  University  of  California 
whether  when  his  university’s  senate 
passed  this  resolution  it  was  not  sur¬ 
rendering  its  claim  to  detachment 
from  social  and  political  commitment, 
and  therefore  abandoning  the  basis 
of  academic  freedom.  He  seemed 
startled;  it  was  the  Vietnamese  prob¬ 
lem  he  had  been  concentrating  on, 
not  the  university  problem.  But  he 
recovered  in  an  interesting  way:  the 
senate  of  the  university  did  not  speak 
for  the  university  except  in  matters  of 
its  constitutional  competence,  such  as 
curriculum  and  examinations;  the 
authority  of  the  university  lay  in  the 
Board  of  Regents,  and  it  had  not 
taken  a  stand  on  Vietnam! 

The  third  great  issue,  poverty, 
closely  related  to  racial  injustice  and 
not  unconnected  with  the  war  in 
Vietnam,  is  not  receding.  If  the  uni¬ 
versities  have  made  a  special  response 
to  the  problem  of  racial  injustice,  and 
are  visibly  moving  towards  commit¬ 
ment  on  Vietnam,  will  they  be  able 
to  resist  the  massive,  widespread,  and 


55 


multiple  pressures  towards  commit¬ 
ment  on  poverty? 

Not  far  behind  these  three  great 
issues  there  loom  others.  Pollution 
may  be  the  most  prominent.  Here,  as 
in  the  case  of  educational  opportunity 
for  underprivileged  minorities,  uni¬ 
versities  have  special  competences 
which  may  again  lead  them  towards 
what  seems  a  limited,  but  may  easily 
turn  into  an  open-ended,  political 
commitment. 

This  is  an  issue  in  which  Canadian 
universities  are  likely  to  experience  as 
much  pressure  towards  commitment 
as  their  American  counterparts.  Ra¬ 
cial  injustice  is  on  a  smaller  scale  in 
Canada,  but  I  am  not  sure  that  it  is 
less  flagrant  than  in  the  U.S.  The  war 
in  Vietnam  is  not  so  close  to  us  as  to 
the  Americans  —  no  draft,  no  casualty 
lists,  no  direct  responsibility  for  opera¬ 
tions  against  civilians  —  but  we  can 
match  the  Americans  for  poverty 
problems  and  the  gross  inequities  in 
the  way  in  which  our  social  system 
works.  For  the  Canadian  university, 
as  for  its  U.S.  counterpart,  pressures 
towards  commitment  are  growing.  On 
both  sides  of  the  border,  the  fact  of  a 
commitment  —  any  commitment  —  to 
a  political  or  social  position  will  be 
more  important  for  the  future  of  the 
university  than  the  content.  If  the  de¬ 
tachment  goes,  the  freedom  will  soon 
go  with  it.  After  a  university  has  de¬ 
clared  that  the  war  in  Vietnam  is 
immoral  and  damaging  and  that  the 
government  must  withdraw  from  it 
by  the  end  of  the  year,  how  much 
freedom  is  there  for  a  historian  or  a 
political  scientist  in  that  university  to 


teach  that  the  war  is  right  and  neces¬ 
sary,  and  must  be  continued  until 
such  and  such  objectives  have  been 
secured?  After  a  university  has  de¬ 
clared  that  existing  poverty  is  morally 
and  socially  unacceptable,  and  that  it 
is  an  inevitable  consequence  of  the 
market  economy,  how  much  freedom 
is  there  for  an  economist  in  that  uni¬ 
versity  to  teach  that  whatever  its 
faults  the  market  economy  is  better 
for  society  as  a  whole  than  known 
alternatives?  I  am  not,  of  course,  ar¬ 
guing  for  the  war  in  Vietnam  or  for 
the  market  economy;  I  am  saying 
that  university  commitments  to  social 
and  political  positions  are  not  con¬ 
sistent  with  academic  freedom. 

This  is  one  implication  of  the  uni¬ 
versity’s  movement  towards  the  gen¬ 
eral  community.  The  second  is  the 
growing  influence  of  analogy  from 
the  political  structure  of  the  general 
community  upon  the  internal  posture 
of  the  university.  When  the  university 
was  seen  as  a  special-purpose  institu¬ 
tion,  it  was  accepted  that  its  internal 
posture  should  be  determined  by 
these  purposes.  Thus  the  founder  and 
sustainer  of  a  university  —  a  state  or  a 
church  or  a  group  of  individuals  — 
was  the  source  of  authority  in  the  uni¬ 
versity.  It  vested  some  of  this  autho¬ 
rity  in  a  Board  of  Governors,  and 
expected  it  to  ensure  that  the  particu¬ 
lar  purposes  for  which  the  university 
had  been  created  were  in  fact  carried 
out.  The  Board  in  turn  delegated 
some  of  its  authority  to  a  president 
and  other  administrators,  and  some  to 
a  senate  or  similar  agency  of  the  uni¬ 
versity’s  teaching  staff.  Some  tensions 


56 


and  ambiguities  between  these  levels 
of  authority  always  existed,  but  the 
rationale  of  authority  was  clearly  re¬ 
sponsibility:  the  ultimate  authority 
rose  out  of  the  responsibility  for  pro¬ 
viding  for  the  needs  of  the  institution; 
that  of  the  Board,  out  of  the  responsi¬ 
bility  for  supervising  its  general 
operation;  that  of  the  president,  out 
of  the  responsibility  for  administering 
it;  that  of  the  senate  and  the  faculty 
councils,  out  of  the  responsibility  for 
performing  its  academic  functions. 
The  students  had,  until  recently,  no 
role  in  all  this:  they  were  acknowl¬ 
edged  to  be  the  objects  of  a  good 
deal  of  the  university’s  activity,  but 
this  was  not  seen  as  conferring  upon 
them  any  authority.  They  were  bene¬ 
ficiaries  of  the  university,  not,  strictly 
speaking,  members  (one  recalls  that 
most  universities  traditionally  defined 
their  members  as  those  who  had 
taken  their  degrees). 

To  those  who  see  the  university 
not  as  a  special-purpose  institution 
but  as  a  reflection  of  the  general  com¬ 
munity,  this  structure  seems  anoma¬ 
lous.  They  denounce  it  as  hierarchical 
and  demand  that  it  be  replaced  by  a 
democratic  structure,  like  that  of  the 
general  community.  They  argue  that 
the  Board  of  Governors  no  longer 
serves  a  valid  purpose,  indeed  that  its 
real  function  today  is  to  bind  the 
university  to  the  service  of  the  busi¬ 
ness  world,  and  that  it  should  be 
replaced  by  a  governing  body  drawn 
from  and  responsible  to  the  university 
itself,  because  the  university  is  a 
“community”  and,  like  the  general 
community,  should  be  entirely  self- 


governing.  Power  within  the  univer¬ 
sity  should  be  recognized  as  emanat¬ 
ing  from  “the  people,”  i.e.,  the  stu¬ 
dents  and  the  faculty,  and  should  be 
exercised  by  delegation  to  demo¬ 
cratically-elected  representatives.  Dis¬ 
tinctions  between  faculty  and  students 
are,  in  this  view,  unimportant;  al¬ 
though  it  may  be  acknowledged  that 
they  are  in  some  respects  two  dif¬ 
ferent  estates,  these  estates  are  at 
best  equal,  and  if  it  comes  to  a  con¬ 
test,  students  are  the  more  important 
of  the  two  (“whom  does  the  univer¬ 
sity  serve?  what  is  knowledge  for?”). 
Unless  the  faculty  concedes  parity  in 
the  sense  of  there  being  as  many  stu¬ 
dent  members  of  all  governing  bodies 
as  there  are  faculty  members,  the  hint 
is  strong  that  then  parity  will  be  en¬ 
forced  in  the  more  exigent  sense  of 
students  and  faculty  members  having 
equal  votes  with  no  distinction  of 
estates,  so  that  a  departmental  as¬ 
sembly  may  have  perhaps  30  or  40 
faculty  votes  and  a  thousand  or  so 
student  votes. 

Such  an  argument  is  naturally  seen 
by  the  faculty  as  a  threat  to  its  vital 
interests,  but  it  is  in  some  respects 
hampered  in  opposing  it  by  its  own 
recent  rhetoric.  For  many  years  the 
faculty  of  the  Canadian  university 
fought  against  the  authoritative  struc¬ 
ture  of  the  university  hierarchy,  in 
which,  it  is  true,  it  participated,  but 
only  as  low  man  on  the  totem  pole. 
At  first  it  tried  to  gain  admission  to 
Boards  of  Governors  so  as  to  share  in 
the  senior  authority;  when  this  was 
everywhere  resisted,  a  strong  tide  set 
in  of  opposition  to  the  power  of 


57 


Boards  per  se.  The  president  and  the 
administration  generally  were  seen  as 
willing  or  reluctant  captives  of  the 
Board,  and  ordinary  anti-administra¬ 
tion  sentiment  was  correspondingly 
intensified.  A  struggle  for  power  en¬ 
sued,  in  which  the  faculty,  much 
closer  than  its  opponents  within  the 
hierarchy  to  students,  often  enlisted 
student  aid  against  Board  and  ad¬ 
ministration.  A  few  years  ago  the  tide 
began  to  run  increasingly  in  favor  of 
this  strategy,  and  resulted  in  wide¬ 
spread  faculty  membership  in  Gov¬ 
erning  Boards,  faculty  participation  in 
selection  of  presidents  and  other  aca¬ 
demic  administrators,  and  generally 
in  the  rise  of  faculty  power.  The 
faculty  naturally  saw  this  as  the 
democratization  of  the  university,  but 
their  allies,  the  student  radicals,  saw 
it  as  only  the  beginning  of  such 
democratization;  they  wanted  now  to 
extend  it  to  include  students  on  an 
equal  basis.  When  faculty,  to  whom 
some  participation  by  students  was 
acceptable,  but  not  in  everything,  and 
not  on  an  equal  basis,  began  to  argue 
against  such  extension  on  the  grounds 
of  the  special  purposes  of  the  univer¬ 
sity,  the  student  radicals  saw  this  as 
a  betrayal.  To  assume  that  an  equal 
student  voice  in  matters  of  curricu¬ 
lum,  grading,  etc.,  would  lower  stan¬ 
dards  was,  they  said,  to  reveal  an 
elitist  bias.  To  argue  that  student 
participation  in  the  appointment,  pro¬ 
motion,  tenure,  and  dismissal  of 
faculty  members  was  a  threat  to  aca¬ 
demic  freedom  was  to  show  that 
academic  freedom  was  only  a  name 
for  special  privilege. 


With  these  erstwhile  allies  now 
moving  into  sharp  opposition  to  each 
other,  the  relation  of  each  to  its  old 
opponents  is  changing  interestingly. 
Student  radicals  have  begun  to  hold 
forth  to  central  administrations  the 
enticing  prospects  of  peace  and  good 
fellowship,  while  they  shift  the  heat 
to  faculty  councils  and,  even  more,  to 
departments  and  departmental  com¬ 
mittees.  Faculty  members,  on  the 
other  hand,  have  begun  to  look  to 
central  administrations,  and  some¬ 
times  even  to  Boards,  for  protection 
against  new  dangers  —  or  rather,  old 
dangers  from  new  sources.  Boards, 
once  the  darlings  of  government,  are 
now  seen  by  cabinet  ministers  as 
mixed  blessings,  and  perhaps  as  poli¬ 
tical  handicaps.  Whether  Boards  will 
cast  about  for  new  allies,  within  or 
without  the  university,  whether  they 
will  concur  in  their  own  dissolution 
or  stand  and  fight,  is  not  yet  clear. 

Another  thing  that  is  not  clear  is 
what  the  public  reaction  to  all  these 
changes  will  be.  Will  the  public  be 
as  intoxicated  with  the  metaphor 
“community  of  scholars”  as  the  stu¬ 
dent  radicals  have  been?  Will  it  take 
the  metaphor,  which  embodies  a  vital 
aspect  of  the  university,  as  a  full  ac¬ 
count  of  the  fact,  and  draw  therefrom 
the  inferences  of  complete  autonomy 
and  absolute  self-government?  Or  will 
it  instead  fasten  upon  one  crushing 
difference  between  the  metaphor  and 
the  fact:  that  a  real  community  sup¬ 
ports  itself,  whereas  the  university  is 
almost  wholly  dependent  upon  the 
public  purse? 

In  speculating  upon  the  answer  to 


58 


this  question,  one  must  bear  in  mind 
that  the  costs  of  higher  education  are 
growing  much  more  rapidly  than  the 
gross  national  product,  and  will  there¬ 
fore  impinge  upon  the  public  con¬ 
sciousness  more  and  more  heavily  as 
long  as  the  trend  continues.  If,  in 
addition  to  this  financial  impinge¬ 
ment,  the  public  becomes  fretfully 
aware  of  a  diminishing  detachment 
of  the  university  from  social  and  poli¬ 
tical  issues,  if  it  sees  the  university  as 
a  very  expensive  irritant,  it  may  find 
its  own  way  to  reassert  the  institu¬ 
tional  nature  of  the  university.  I  think 
the  public  sees  the  university  as  a 
somewhat  pampered  institution, 
brought  into  being  at  public  expense 
for  particular  purposes  which  are,  or 
ought  to  be,  for  the  public  good;  it 
sees  the  faculty  as  employees  of  that 
institution,  and  therefore  indirectly 
of  the  public;  and  it  sees  the  stu¬ 
dents  as  the  immediate  and  highly- 
favored  beneficiaries  of  the  public 
largesse.  How  far  it  will  accept  an 
extremely  challenging  departure  from 
this  configuration  is  unclear.  Certainly 
two  kinds  of  backlash  are  becoming 
visible:  intensified  resistance  to  the 
increased  taxes  required  to  meet  in¬ 
creased  university  costs,  and  growing 
demands  for  stricter  control  of  radical 
manifestations.  The  effect  on  the  pub¬ 
lic  of  overt  university  commitments, 
if  there  are  any,  to  specific  political 
and  social  positions  will  presumably 
vary,  but  I  fear  that  in  the  long  run, 
if  the  university  discards  its  neutral¬ 
ity,  it  will  once  again  become  the 
political  servant  of  the  government  of 
the  day. 


Some  of  the  possible  consequences 
of  change  which  I  have  envisioned 
are  very  disagreeable:  a  diminution 
of  emphasis  on  the  academic  in  favor 
of  the  vocational,  the  loss  of  detach¬ 
ment,  and  with  it  of  academic  free¬ 
dom,  an  internal  struggle  for  power, 
punishment  by  the  public,  and  loss  of 
autonomy.  I  think  most  of  us  would 
try  very  hard  to  avoid  such  conse¬ 
quences.  But  we  must  be  careful  not 
to  try  to  do  so  by  stopping  all  signi¬ 
ficant  change.  Some  changes,  particu¬ 
larly  in  the  internal  posture  of  the 
university  and  in  its  machinery  for 
securing  the  willing  assent  of  its  mem¬ 
bers,  are  needed,  and  can  operate  in 
defence  of  the  university’s  integrity. 
Others  are  inimical  to  it,  and  I  hope 
they  are  resisted,  but  discriminatingly. 
Most  of  the  changes  are  brought  in 
the  wake  of  growing  enrolments,  and 
it  is  a  real  social  and  philosophical 
question  whether  we  wish  to  impede 
such  growth.  Certainly  the  demand 
for  universal  accessibility  to  higher 
education  is  not  diminishing. 

It  may  be  that  diversification  of 
higher  education  and  a  strengthening 
of  alternative  streams,  such  as  com¬ 
munity  and  technical  colleges,  can 
rescue  the  universities  by  attracting 
to  other  institutions  large  numbers  of 
persons  who  would  otherwise  go  into 
the  universities. 

Even  that  prospect  is  not  without 
its  disadvantages:  it  offers  the  relative 
safety  of  diminishing  centrality,  im¬ 
portance,  and  resources.  But  then 
does  that  not  resemble  the  situation 
out  of  which  the  university’s  freedom 
first  grew? 


59 


A  home  for  Library  Science 

Brian  Land 


After  a  wait  of  42  years,  the 
School  of  Library  Science  is 
soon  to  occupy  a  building  of 
its  own.  In  December  1970,  the 
school  is  scheduled  to  move  into  new 
quarters  specially  designed  to  meet 
its  requirements  for  teaching  and  re¬ 
search. 

For  the  first  37  years  of  its  exist¬ 
ence,  the  School  occupied  quarters 
on  the  third  floor  of  the  College  of 
Education  building.  For  the  past  five 
years,  it  has  been  accommodated  in 
a  three-storey  building  at  167  College 
Street  and  on  two  floors  of  an  adja¬ 
cent  building  at  256  McCaul  Street, 
connected  to  it  by  a  walkway  at  the 
second  level. 

With  a  current  enrolment  of  215 
full-time  and  77  part-time  students, 
the  University  of  Toronto  School  of 
Library  Science  is  the  largest  library 
school  in  Canada  and  one  of  the  two 
or  three  largest  in  North  America. 
Since  its  establishment  in  1928,  the 
School  has  graduated  more  than  2300 
librarians. 

The  new  School  of  Library  Science 
is  part  of  a  three-building  complex 
being  constructed  on  a  three-acre  site 


bounded  by  St.  George  Street,  Sussex 
Avenue,  Huron  Street  and  Harbord 
Street.  The  other  buildings  in  the 
complex  are  the  Humanities  and 
Social  Sciences  Research  Library 
which  will  be  one  of  the  largest  li¬ 
braries  in  the  world,  and  the-  Rare 
Books  Library.  The  School  of  Library 
Science  building  will  be  located  on 
the  northeast  corner  of  the  site  and 
will  have  a  separate  entrance. 

Principal  architects  for  the  project 
are  Mathers  and  Haldenby,  Toronto, 
who  were  responsible  for  the  National 
Library,  Ottawa.  The  design  consul¬ 
tants  are  Warner,  Burns,  Toan  & 
Lunde  of  New  York.  This  architec¬ 
tural  firm  has  won  awards  for  its 
design  of  the  Olin  Library  at  Cornell 
University,  Ithaca,  N.Y.,  the  John  D. 
Rockefeller  Jr.  Library  at  Brown  Uni¬ 
versity,  Providence,  R.I.,  and  the 
Hofstra  University  Library,  Hemp¬ 
stead,  N.Y. 

Planning  for  new  facilities  for  the 
School  of  Library  Science  began  in 
1961  when  it  became  evident  that 
space  in  the  College  of  Education 
building,  where  the  School  had  been 
housed  since  its  establishment  in 


The  author,  Director  of  the  School  of  Library  Science,  is  seen  on  the  facing 
page  with  an  architect’s  model  of  the  building  now  under  construction 


61 


1928,  was  inadequate  to  meet  the 
needs  imposed  by  increased  enrol¬ 
ment  in  the  Library  School  and  in  the 
College.  It  was  decided  that  the  most 
satisfactory  solution  to  the  problem 
was  to  include  quarters  for  the  School 
of  Library  Science  in  the  program 
for  the  new  Humanities  and  Social 
Sciences  Research  Library  then  being 
planned. 

In  1964,  the  Director  of  the  School 
was  instructed  by  the  President  to 
draw  up  plans  for  quarters  that  would 
accommodate  an  enrolment  of  400 
full-time  students  together  with  the 
necessary  academic  and  support  staff. 
As  a  result,  plans  for  the  new  library 
school  were  included  as  part  of  the 
77-page  Program  for  the  Construction 
of  a  Building  Complex  to  House  the 
Humanities  and  Social  Sciences  Re¬ 
search  Library  and  the  School  of 
Library  Science  presented  to  the  Pre¬ 
sident  in  1965. 

As  a  graduate  professional  school, 
the  School’s  chief  functions  include 
teaching,  the  formulation  and  execu¬ 
tion  of  research  projects,  and  a  pro¬ 
gram  of  continuing  professional  edu¬ 
cation  carried  out  through  sponsor¬ 
ship  of  workshops,  conferences  and 
institutes.  To  provide  the  necessary 
space  for  these  functions  to  be  per¬ 
formed  effectively,  the  School  of 
Library  Science  building  will  have 
eight  floors:  one  below  ground  level, 
one  at  ground  level  and  six  above 
ground  level.  The  net  floor  area  of 
approximately  52,600  square  feet  has 
been  allocated  as  follows: 

First  Basement  Floor :  An  audio¬ 


visual  utility  room,  an  audio-visual 
retrieval  room;  and  a  mail  and  re¬ 
ceiving  room. 

First  (Ground)  Floor:  A  data  pro¬ 
cessing  laboratory;  a  duplicating  and 
photocopying  room;  an  audio-visual 
control  room;  an  audio-visual  prep¬ 
arations  room;  a  student  locker  area; 
and  a  student  lunch  room. 

Second  Floor :  The  main  lobby;  a 
lecture  theatre  seating  130;  two  lec¬ 
ture  rooms,  accommodating  40  each, 
with  raised  floors  to  allow  for  electri¬ 
cal  cabling  for  computer-assisted  in¬ 
struction  (CAI)  equipment;  the  gen¬ 
eral  administrative  offices;  the  office 
of  the  Director;  staff  conference  room. 

Third  Floor :  Two  lecture  rooms, 
each  accommodating  40  students;  one 
lecture  room  for  30  students;  two 
laboratories  for  cataloguing  and  classi¬ 
fication,  each  accommodating  30  stu¬ 
dents;  a  studio  for  closed-circut  tele¬ 
vision;  four  seminar  rooms;  and  two 
typing  rooms. 

Fourth  Floor:  The  library,  includ¬ 
ing  the  chief  librarian’s  office;  the 
library  office  area  and  work  room; 
the  circulation  desk;  a  microform 
reading  room;  a  library  teaching 
room.  The  lower  floor  of  the  library 
will  house  the  card  catalogue,  vertical 
files,  current  periodicals,  periodical 
indexes,  the  reference  collection, 
trade  and  national  bibliographies, 
maps,  28  individual  study  carrels, 
and  reading  room  tables  and  chairs 
for  another  32.  The  library  area  on 
the  fourth  and  fifth  floors  will  be  self- 
contained  with  one  check-out  point  on 
the  fourth  level. 


62 


university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


The  three  people  who  have  guided  the  School  of  Library  Science  since  its  inception: 
Miss  Winifred  Barnstead,  1928-1951,  centre;  Miss  Bertha  Bassam,  1951-1964,  left; 
and  Brian  Land,  1964  to  the  present. 


CHRONOLOGY 

1928  University  of  Toronto  Library  School  established  and  attached  to  the  College 
of  Education.  Winifred  G.  Barnstead  appointed  Director.  Began  offering 
one-year  course  leading  to  University  Diploma. 

1936  One-year  course  leading  to  the  degree  of  Bachelor  of  Library  Science 
established. 

1937  First  B.L.S.  degree  awarded.  School  accredited  by  American  Library 
Association. 

1946  University  Diploma  course  discontinued. 

1948  Representative  of  the  graduates  in  library  science  elected  to  the  Senate. 

1950  Advanced  one-year  course  leading  to  the  degree  of  Master  of  Library  Science 
established. 

1951  First  M.L.S.  degree  awarded,  the  first  such  award  in  Canada.  Winifred  G. 
Barnstead  retired;  Bertha  Bassam  appointed  Director. 

1952  Director  became  ex-officio  member  of  the  Senate. 

1954  University  Diploma  course  formally  withdrawn. 

1956  School  re-accredited  under  1951  Standards  of  the  American  Library 

Association. 

1964  Bertha  Bassam  retired;  R.  Brian  Land  appointed  Director. 

1965  Library  School  detached  administratively  from  the  College  of  Education  and 
renamed  the  School  of  Library  Science.  Senate  Board  of  Library  Science 
Studies  established.  Member  of  the  Council  of  the  School  elected  to  the 
Senate.  School  moved  to  quarters  at  the  corner  of  College  and  McCaul 
Streets. 

1969  Largest  number  of  graduates  to  date:  223  B.L.S.  and  20  M.L.S.  degrees 
awarded. 

1970  B.L.S.  degree  program  established.  Proposal  for  doctoral  program  developed. 
New  building  scheduled  for  completion. 


April  1970 


63 


UNIVERSITY  OF  TORONTO  SCHOOL  OF  LIBRARY  SCIENCE 

Enrolment  as  of  December  1 

(FT — Full-Time;  PT — Part-Time:  T — Total) 


1964-1965 

1965-1966 

1966-1967 

1967-1968 

1968-1969 

1969-1970 

FT 

PT  T 

FT 

PT 

T 

FT 

PT  T 

FT 

PT 

T 

FT 

PT 

T 

FT  PT  T 

B.L.S. 

102 

2  104 

153 

0 

153 

177 

3  180 

192 

1 

193 

217 

0 

217 

197  0  197 

M.L.S. 

1 

10  11 

1 

25 

26 

5 

37  42 

5 

50 

55 

5 

59 

64 

18  77  95 

Total 

103 

12  115 

154 

25 

179 

182 

40  222 

197 

51 

248 

222 

59 

281 

215  77  292 

Degrees  Awarded 

1987-1940  1941-1945  1946-1950  1951-1955 

1956- 

-1960  1961-1966 

■  1966-1969  1937-1969 

B.L.S. 

192 

151 

248 

269 

218 

439 

721 

2,244 

M.L.S. 

0 

0 

0 

7 

11 

11 

35 

71 

Total 

192 

151 

248 

276 

229 

450 

756 

2,315 

Fifth  Floor :  The  remainder  of  the 
library,  including  most  of  the  book- 
stacks;  four  group-study  rooms  each 
accommodating  six  students;  approxi¬ 
mately  92  individual  study  carrels, 
20  of  which  are  lockable;  and  a 
smoking  area. 

Sixth  Floor :  Offices  for  approxi¬ 
mately  50  staff  including  academic 
staff,  teaching  assistants,  and  techni¬ 
cal  staff  such  as  computer  program¬ 
mers  and  audio-visual  specialists. 

Seventh  Floor :  Offices  for  eight 
faculty  members  and  research  asso¬ 
ciates;  an  office  for  the  students’  coun¬ 
cil;  a  staff  lunch  room;  and  a  general 
common  room  for  staff  and  students. 

Early  Training  for  Librarianship 

Education  for  librarianship  has 
been  carried  on  in  Ontario  for  nearly 
60  years,  having  begun  in  1911  with 
the  establishment  by  the  Department 
of  Education  of  a  four-week  summer 
course  under  the  directorship  of  the 


Inspector  of  Public  Libraries.  The 
students  who  took  this  course  came 
primarily  from  the  public  libraries  in 
Ontario.  Although  no  educational  test 
was  given  for  admission  candidates 
were  supposed  to  have  completed 
high  school.  No  fee  was  charged, 
books  and  supplies  were  furnished 
free,  and  the  railway  fare  to  and 
from  Toronto  was  paid  by  the  De¬ 
partment  of  Education.  The  aim  of 
the  course  was  to  allow  the  students 
to  familiarize  themselves  with  the 
Public  Libraries  Act  under  which 
they  operated  and  to  prepare  them 
to  carry  on  the  services  and  routines 
of  the  public  library. 

The  provincial  course  for  librarians 
was  extended  to  two  months  in  1917 
and  to  three  months  in  1919.  The 
second  of  these  courses  was  offered 
by  what  later  became  known  as  the 
Ontario  Library  School  in  quarters 
( Continued  on  page  88) 


64 


Number  27  Marshall  McLuhan,  editor  April  1970 

Icarus  Lost  R.  J.  schoeck 

The  University  and  the  City  marshall  mcluhan 


The  cost  of  printing  this  issue  of  Explorations  is  being  contributed  by  the  Associates 
of  the  University  of  Toronto,  Inc.,  New  York,  on  behalf  of  the  University  of  Toronto 
alumni  living  in  the  United  States. 


66  Explorations 


Icarus  Lost:  Patterns  of  Changing  Education  in  the  Humanities 


Prologue 

Icarus  was  the  son  of  Daedalus,  the  mythical  Greek  architect  who  is  said  to 
have  built  the  labyrinth  for  Minos  of  Crete,  as  well  as  other  wonders.  The 
central  legend  has  Daedalus  managing  his  own  escape  from  the  labyrinth, 
and  that  of  his  son,  by  fashioning  wings  of  wax  and  feathers.  Only,  his  son 
flew  too  near  the  sun,  despite  the  warnings  of  his  father,  who  managed  to 
save  himself. 

Depending  upon  one’s  point  of  view,  several  morals  could  be  drawn  from 
this  legend  viewed  as  fable.  From  that  of  Daedalus,  who  might  be  taken  to 
represent  the  older  generation,  he  knew  from  craft  and  experience  that  there 
were  limits,  that  one  could  fly  too  high,  that  destruction  would  be  the  price. 
And  he  would  ask,  concerning  his  son’s  death,  was  it  worth  the  price?  From 
the  point  of  view  of  young  Icarus,  who  might  be  taken  to  represent  the 
younger  generation,  the  father  had  managed  to  invent  something  for  the 
establishment  but  was  paying  the  price  for  that  kind  of  service;  and  if  the 
father  was  wrong  on  the  one  count,  might  his  advice  not  be  faulty  on  others? 
Besides,  surely  the  great  artificer  could  not  deny  his  own  son  the  privilege  of 
making  his  own  mistakes? 

But  I  doubt  that  this  kind  of  polarization  is  the  intention  of  the  original, 
and  I  would  doubt  still  more  that  the  potential  meaning  of  the  fable  could  be 
so  limited.  W.  H.  Auden  has  embodied  still  another  thrust  of  interpretation 
in  his  poem  ‘Musee  des  Beaux  Arts’,  which  in  turn  builds  upon  Brueghel’s 
Icarus,  seeing  the  event  of  Icarus’  fall  as  being  about  suffering  (very  existen¬ 
tial)  :  the  human  position  ...  how  everything  turns  away  ...  that  from  the  point 
of  view  of  everyday  life  it  was  not  an  important  failure  ...  yet  Icarus  had 
somewhere  to  get  to  ...  How  important,  we  might  inquire,  is  education  in  the 
humanities  to  observers  outside  the  university  who  ask  only  questions  about 
relevance  (and  relevance  only  as  they  would  define  it)? 

It  would  be  easy  to  impose  a  single  pattern  upon  the  fable  -  whether  the 
Daedalian  or  the  Icaristic  or  the  Audenesque  -  and  to  project  this  to  a  genera- 


67  April  1970 


tion,  or  a  class,  or  an  estate.  But  that  would  be  indoctrination  (and  I  am  now, 
quite  self-evidently,  using  the  fable  as  a  part  of  a  larger  whole) ;  it  would  not 
be  education,  which  in  the  humanities  must  be  at  least  the  exploration  of  all 
possible  meaning,  the  questioning  of  past  solutions,  the  evaluation  of  other 
attempts. 

I  The  quarter-century,  1920—1945 

Until  World  War  n  (a  landmark  of  some  convenience,  for  along  with  the 
radical  swell  in  numbers  came  radical  changes  of  motivation,  which  were 
followed,  inevitably,  by  questionings  and  change),  education  in  the  humani¬ 
ties  was  not  distinguished  by  imaginative  techniques,  either  of  large  pro¬ 
grammes  or  of  individual  efforts  to  solve  problems.  When  one  looks  back 
upon  the  quarter-century  from  1920  to  1945,  one  must  be  impressed  by  its 
relative  sameness  and  its  essential  conventionality,  by  its  lack  of  response  to 
a  number  of  massive  stimuli  (Freud,  a  world-wide  depression,  the  developing 
new  technology  -  radio,  movies,  recording,  etc.  -  a  world  war) .  The  univer¬ 
sities  of  the  West  changed  hardly  at  all,  few  new  departments  emerged,  and 
19th-century  patterns  in  the  main  continued.  In  the  graduate  schools,  there 
was  largely  a  second-hand  transplanting  of  the  German  universities:  the 
typical  graduate  class  attempted  to  fuse  an  advanced  lecture  with  the  true 
Seminar  (on  which  see  my  comments  in  the  November  1969  acls 
Newsletter) .  At  the  undergraduate  level,  a  late  19th-century  notion  of  the 
liberal  arts  was  combined  with  an  elective  system  which  tended  to  defeat  its 
real  purposes.  What  new  efforts  were  made  -  e.g.,  Robert  Hutchen’s  single- 
handed  attempt  to  revamp  the  overlap  of  high-school  and  university  educa¬ 
tion  in  the  u.s.  by  the  fiat  of  a  new  degree  at  Chicago  -  were  not  well 
grounded  and  doomed  to  failure. 

The  consequences  of  that  quarter-century  which  ended  in  1945  (and  the 
war-years  are  largely  a  history  of  the  adaptation  of  the  campuses  either  to 
Army  instruction  or  to  a  keep-the-home-fires-burning  kind  of  operation  with 
greatly  reduced  numbers)  are  still  with  us.  Not  only  was  there  a  relative  lack 
of  experimentation,  of  necessary  adaptation  and  change,  but  a  rigidifying  of 
departmental  autonomy,  which  made  it  possible  for  individual  departments 
later  to  fight  changes  that  might  imperil  their  empires  or  special  interest. 


68  Explorations 


(One  might  comment,  en  passant,  that  formula-financing  contributes  still 
further  to  this  unhappy  development.) 

Not  a  controlling  factor,  perhaps,  but  one  which  certainly  altered  much 
scholarship  and  teaching  in  certain  areas  of  the  humanities  -  as  indeed  it  did 
in  theoretical  physics  and  mathematics  -  was  the  wave  of  refugee  scholars 
who  came  first  in  late  1933,  and  in  a  number  of  subsequent  waves  for  the 
next  dozen  years  or  so.  North  American  scholarship,  to  put  the  matter  in  its 
simplest  terms,  owes  an  immense  debt  to  the  multitude  of  European  scholars 
(mostly  German  and  central  European,  who  were  driven  out  by  Hitler  or 
compelled  to  flee  for  reasons  of  conscience  and  safety),  though  I  suspect  the 
debt,  even  proportionately,  is  greater  in  the  u.s.  than  in  Canada.  These 
refugee  scholars  added  the  perspective  and  special  skills  that  were  the 
product  of  a  kind  of  education  that  was  generally  not  to  be  found  in  North 
America.  One  thinks  of  an  Auerbach  whose  first  doctoral  dissertation  was 
in  law  and  whose  second  was  in  romance  philology,  or  the  scholars  whose 
training  would  ordinarily  include  work  in  the  universities  of  several  countries 
-  but  all  of  whom  would  have  had  an  immensely  solid  classical  foundation, 
now  gone  from  North  America  and  disappearing  even  in  the  u.k.  but  still 
to  be  found  in  the  Low  Countries;  and  such  a  common  foundation  gave 
unity  to  the  diverse  subjects  within  the  studia  humanitatis.  There  were  other 
effects  as  well:  personal  contacts  with  a  wider  circle  of  scholars,  an  aware¬ 
ness  of  the  need  to  work  in  the  great  European  archives  and  libraries  for 
access  to  manuscript  and  primary  source  materials;  but  also  different 
methods  of  work  (and  I  have  spoken  already  of  different  senses  of  the 
potentialities  of  the  seminar).  Departments  or  disciplines  in  which  the 
influence  of  such  scholars  is  to  be  seen  most  fully  are  medieval  and  renais¬ 
sance  studies,  philosophy,  comparative  literature  (which  was  scarcely  to  be 
thought  of  in  pre-1945  North  America),  and  linguistics. 

II  The  next  quarter-century,  1945—1970 

It  is  harder  to  see  the  quarter-century  from  1945  to  1970  than  it  now  is  to  see 
the  preceding  one,  for  we  are  too  close  to  the  trees  ...  But  it  is  clear  that  it 
was  much  easier  to  handle  the  sudden  swell  of  numbers  in  the  immediate 
post-war  years  in  the  then-existing  structures  -  easier,  not  necessarily  more 


69  April  1970 


‘efficient’  or  more  productive  of  the  larger  ends  of  education.  Then  there 
was  one  decade  of  re-groupment  from  about  1955  to  1965,  and  the  univer¬ 
sities  must  be  held  culpable  for  failing  to  study  their  problems  of  structure, 
function  and  longrange  planning  during  those  halcyon  days.  (I  should  like  to 
go  on  record  that  in  both  my  present  university  and  in  the  one  preceding,  I 
recommended  years  ago  in  letters  to  the  presidents  that  it  was  an  extraordi¬ 
nary  irony  that  the  institution  which  studied  all  things  did  not  really  study 
itself;  that  nowhere,  to  my  knowledge,  was  there  a  full  and  continuing 
study  -  at  a  scholarly  level  that  would  correspond  with  the  research  in  com¬ 
parable  fields  -  of  the  history  and  techniques  of  the  university,  its  organiza¬ 
tion  and  financing,  its  multiple  relations  to  and  responsibilities  to  society, 
and  problems  and  techniques  of  planning.  Now  fragmentary  and  rushed 
studies  go  on  everywhere.) 

During  the  halcyon  decade  there  was  the  development  of  honours  pro¬ 
grammes  of  many  persuasions,  some  honours  only  by  virtue  of  allowing  a 
student  to  take  more  courses,  some  by  virtue  of  allowing  a  student  to  work 
on  his  own;  few  of  the  honours  courses  in  the  States  troubled  to  study  the 
honours  tradition  at  Toronto  (which  has  now  been  terminated  by  administra¬ 
tive  decree),  or  the  programmes  in  other  countries.  (One  does  not  transplant 
tradition,  of  course,  but  one  can  import  ideas  and  learn  from  the  experience 
of  others.)  There  have  been  as  well  a  number  of  trans-  and  inter-disciplinary 
programmes  in  the  humanities;  Stanford’s  Ph.D.  in  the  humanities  in  com¬ 
bination  with  another  discipline  deserves  to  be  better  known  and  studied,  and 
there  are  others,  to  be  sure,  at  both  the  graduate  and  undergraduate  levels. 

Another  development  during  this  period  that  began  in  the  States  and  has 
begun  to  make  its  appearance  in  Canada  is  a  function  of  the  larger  numbers 
going  on  to  graduate  school:  much  of  undergraduate  education  is  conceived 
as  simply  propaedeutic  to  graduate  work  in  the  same  discipline.  The  increase 
in  professionalism,  or  pre-professionalism,  is  apparent  enough,  but  what  has 
been  lost  is  not  so  apparent,  and  not  sufficiently  the  concern  of  educational¬ 
ists.  One  may  remark  that  medieval  Paris  produced  the  same  phenomenon, 
where  the  liberal  arts  had  little  autonomy  and  were  perpetually  under  the 
domination  of  (under  the  burden  of  being  treated  as  simply  preparatory  to) 
theology  and  other  professional  schools  -  hence  the  creation  in  the  sixteenth 
century  of  the  College  de  France. 


70  Explorations 


In  the  decade  from  1960  to  1970  there  has  been  a  remarkable  develop¬ 
ment,  usually  at  the  graduate  level,  of  institutes  and  centres,  as  L.  K.  Shook 
has  commented  (in  the  Journal  of  Higher  Education,  1967).  Inevitably,  the 
standards  and  pre-requisites,  and  simply  examples  and  values,  of  such 
graduate  institutions  have  already  had  an  influence  on  undergraduate  teach¬ 
ing  across  the  continent. 

The  Vietnam  War  and  student  involvement  are  the  two  violent  external 
stimuli  which  have  sent  shock-waves  throughout  the  universities.  Along  with 
thrusts  at  the  structure  of  the  university  as  a  whole,  there  have  been  endless 
discussions  and  meetings  concerned  with  the  restructuring  of  departments, 
sometimes  in  their  own  terms  and  sometimes  along  with  (and  thereby 
making  immensely  more  complex)  the  problem  of  student  representation  at 
different  levels  of  university  administration.  There  have  been  reduplicating 
and  generally  too  feeble  attempts  to  study  the  functions  of  the  university, 
often  proceeding  from  and  typically  leading  to  a  confusion  of  principles  of 
representation,  accountability,  decision-making,  and  teaching  itself.  The  cost 
in  terms  of  faculty  time  and  energy  has  been  incalculable,  and  at  this  stage 
of  the  game  one  can  only  hope  that  it  will  have  been  even  moderately 
worth-while. 

Ill  The  fruits  of  the  past  quarter-century 

The  habit  of  mind  developed  before  World  War  n  thought  not  only  in  terms 
of  departments  rather  than  problems  {pace  Acton),  but  indeed  of  areas 
within  departments,  to  the  end  that  the  Department  of  English  at  x  would 
assume  that  it  had  to  replace  a  ‘Milton  Man’  with  another  ‘Milton  Man’, 
and  every  ambitious  department  of  English  assumed  that  it  had  to  have  its 
Anglo-Saxonist  and  Chaucerian  (the  two  might  be  combined  in  a  small 
department),  and  men  for  Shakespeare,  the  Renaissance,  the  18th  century, 
Romantics,  Victorian,  and  Modern.  Small  wonder  that  the  graduate  schools 
turned  out  Milton  Men  and  not  more  original  minds  that  did  not  fit  the 
patterns  quite  so  neatly. 

The  specialization  had  been  carried,  very  frequently,  one  step  further. 
Certain  institutions  were  thought  of  as  being  the  ‘best’  for  18th  century 
(Yale),  or  the  home  of  Chaucer  studies  (Chicago  in  the  1930’s,  with  Manly, 


71  April  1970 


Rickert  and  company).  So  much  has  this  changed  in  English  that  a  dispas¬ 
sionate  observer  could  not  help  noticing  that  Yale,  which  is  two  or  three 
deep  in  nearly  every  other  period,  is  getting  thin  in  the  18th  century,  that 
Chicago  has  only  one  Chaucerian,  that  Toronto  (once  the  home  of  Mil- 
tonists)  did  not  last  year  give  a  graduate  course  in  Milton...  I  take  it  that 
certain  other  disciplines  and/or  departments  in  the  humanities  are  lagging 
behind  English  in  this  respect;  for  some  institutions  are  still  anchored  upon  a 
single  approach,  and  not  many  history  departments  in  Canada  display  the 
kind  of  balance  that  Yale,  for  example,  does  in  ranging  from  constitutional 
to  commonwealth  to  African,  u.s.,  and  Asian  history,  including  as  well 
church  history  (so  sadly  neglected  generally  in  Canada)  and  the  history  of 
canon  law. 

The  failure  of  universities  to  study  the  financial  foundations  and  to  widen 
their  bases  of  funding  is  producing  bitter  fruit.  The  federal  supports  for  the 
humanities  are  weakening,  rather  more  than  for  the  universities  at  large.  In 
Canada  support  for  the  humanities,  it  would  seem,  has  fallen  to  about  what 
it  was,  proportionately,  in  the  early  years  of  the  Canada  Council,  and  in  the 
u.s.  the  well-conceived  National  Endowment  for  the  Humanities  has  never 
had  its  needed  and  promised  support  from  the  federal  government  ($40  mil¬ 
lion  is  being  asked,  but  it  has  not  yet  been  authorized  by  Congress  nor  does 
it  seem  likely  to  escape  a  Nixon  veto).  The  humanities  are  as  dependent 
upon  research  as  are  the  social  sciences,  or  the  physical  and  biological 
(those  darlings  of  the  defence  establishment  and  foundations);  indeed,  I 
would  argue  even  more,  for  a  first-rate  teacher  in  the  humanities  cannot 
discard  the  out-dated  but  must  continue  an  unending  challenge  or  re-evaluat¬ 
ing  of  the  past  (if  not  all  of  the  past,  at  least  the  past  as  a  whole)  as  part 
of  his  teaching.  A  first-rate  teacher  may  not  have  to  publish  in  order  not  to 
perish  -  and  in  point  of  fact,  the  ‘publish  or  perish’  cliche  has  been  grossly 
exaggerated  and  has  led  to  all  kinds  of  distortion  by  student  and  general 
public  (for  within  many  Canadian  universities  there  are  excellent  teachers 
in  the  humanities  who  have  not  published).  But  there  are  no  first-rate 
teachers,  I  urge,  who  do  not  continue  research  into  the  on-going  develop¬ 
ments  within  their  own  field,  who  are  not  in  their  own  studies  and  class¬ 
rooms,  with  their  own  students,  ceaselessly  re-evaluating  the  past  and  study¬ 
ing  present  contributions  in  their  field.  Otherwise,  they  would  go  sterile;  they 


72  Explorations 


would  be  repeating  and  diluting  past  truths  which  are  in  the  process  of 
becoming  out-dated  and  derivative  cliches.  Sir  Thomas  More  put  his  finger 
on  this  old  problem  in  this  way: 

A  conviction  that  is  first  handed  on  by  stupid  teachers  and  then 
strengthened  in  the  course  of  years  is  extremely  capable  of  pervert¬ 
ing  the  judgment  of  even  sound  minds.  (Selected  Letters,  p.  20) 

What  is  needed  is  growth  and  development,  not  change  for  its  own  sake. 
One  does  not  cling  to  what  is  old,  simply  because  it  is  old;  nor  does  one 
grasp  at  what  is  new,  simply  because  it  is  new.  We  need,  first  of  all,  to  know 
more  about  what  is  going  on  here  and  elsewhere. 

At  the  graduate  level,  has  there  been  sufficient  concern  with  teacher 
training  as  part  of  work  in  the  humanities?  I  am  not  here  advocating  courses 
in  method,  but  rather  a  closer  relation  between  a  graduate  student’s  work  as 
a  teaching  fellow  and  his  studies  as  a  graduate  student:  one  institution  in  the 
States  closely  related  undergraduate  teaching  experience  in  Shakespeare 
with  work  in  a  graduate  Shakespeare  course  (under  the  same  professor,  who 
can  relate  the  two  -  made  possible  by  a  supporting  foundation  grant).  Has 
there  been  sufficient  attention  to  the  seminar  itself?  Have  we  looked  to  the 
optimum  size  of  the  seminar,  to  various  techniques  such  as  a  free  seminar 
(in  which  years  ago  at  Cornell  we  presented  interdepartmental  honours 
students  with  a  problem  and  turned  them  loose  to  solve  it  -  which  they  did, 
with  a  splendid  majority  report  to  which  nearly  all  added  their  individual 
essays),  or  with  bringing  the  world  into  the  seminar  or  lecture-room  (as  a 
political  science  course  did  by  live  telephone  interviews  with  political  figures, 
during  the  class  period)?  How  much  of  this  has  been  considered  in  the 
humanities? 

Outside  of  the  phil.m.,  which  began  first  at  Toronto  -  and  the  fact  that 
Yale  apparently  introduced  the  degree  in  ignorance  of  its  earlier  adoption  at 
Toronto  demonstrates  the  lack  of  information-exchange  on  such  matters  - 
there  have  been  few  attempts  to  confront  the  dissertation  problem.  Except 
for  the  Iowa  creative  thesis,  there  are  no  well-known  modifications  (except 
to  make  it  shorter)  or  experiments  with  the  traditional  dissertation.  In  pre¬ 
paring  for  a  future  which  will  encourage,  as  I  think,  group  teaching  and 
group  scholarship,  we  are  doing  nothing  to  encourage  the  individual  student 


73  April  1970 


in  the  humanities  to  relate  his  lonely  work  to  a  group  effort,  as  is  done  so 
often  in  the  sciences.  Group  work  is  possible,  as  I  have  suggested  in  my 
discussion  of  group  scholarship  in  the  acls  Newsletter.  Several  students 
can  take  different  parts  or  elements  of  a  large  work,  or  study  different  figures 
involved  in  a  movement;  each  student  can  still  be  judged  by  his  ordonnance 
of  his  material  and  by  his  grasp  of  the  relation  of  the  part  to  the  whole.  But 
this  is  a  subject  worthy  of  separate  study. 

Above  all,  we  must  think  of  the  relationship  of  our  discipline  to  the 
humanistic  whole  -  else  why  call  the  advanced  degree  a  doctorate  in 
philosophy,  why  not  simply  a  D.  English  or  D.  History?  If  the  notion  of  a 
doctorate  in  philosophy  means  anything,  it  should  mean  that  the  individual 
has  mastered  his  discipline  and  has  seen  it  in  relation  to  the  larger  thrusts 
and  problems  of  the  humanities.  Perhaps  we  are  not  so  much  at  the  begin¬ 
ning  of  the  end  (as  some  pessimists  would  think,  when  they  view  the  changes 
that  disrupt  their  familiar  groves  of  academe),  but  at  the  end  of  the  be¬ 
ginning  -  provided  that  we  do  not  lose  what  is  good  in  the  old,  and  that  we 
adopt  only  what  is  good  in  the  new.  But  fuller  knowledge  of  what  we  are 
doing  is  necessary;  only  then  we  can  hope  to  be  wise,  and  to  avoid  the 
extremes  of  the  Daedalian  or  Icaristic  or  Audenesque. 

A  Bibliographical  Note 

It  must  be  remarked  that  too  little  has  been  done  with  the  history  of  university 
teaching  and  study  in  the  humanities  during  the  past  half-century.  There  are  of 
course  continuing  essays  in  various  professional  journals  -  College  English  has 
had  a  goodly  number  -  and  there  are  a  few  compilations  like  Revolution  in 
Teaching:  New  theory,  technology,  and  curricular,  ed.  Alfred  de  Grazia  and 
David  A.  Sohn  (New  York:  Bantam  Books,  1964),  which  unfortunately  covers 
far  too  wide  a  spectrum  of  problems  and  moves  up  and  down  too  many  levels, 
from  elementary  on  up.  There  has  been  much  published  more  or  less  privately, 
in  such  magazines  as  alumni  magazines,  which  are  pretty  inaccessible  to  the  non¬ 
alumnus  (e.g.,  William  DeVane’s  comparison  of  the  teaching  at  Yale  over  a 
25-year  period  in  the  Yale  Alumni  Magazine,  June  1960);  and  associations  like 
that  of  the  Princeton  Graduate  Alumm  have  frequently  held  conferences  on 
teaching  in  the  humanities. 

One  must  comment  on  the  recent  study  by  D.  J.  Palmer  of  the  study  of  English 
at  Oxford:  The  Rise  of  English  Studies  (Hull  u.p.),  and  the  recent  controversial 


74  Explorations 


lectures  of  Leavis  on  English  in  the  university  (F.  R.  Leavis,  English  Literature 
in  Our  Time  and  the  University,  The  Clark  Lectures,  1967.  [London:  Chatto  & 
Windus,  1969]  on  which  cf.  TLS,  29  May  1969),  which  produced  more  fire  than 
illumination.  In  her  own  inaugural  lecture  as  Merton  Professor,  Helen  Gardner 
identified  herself  as  the  first  Professor  of  English  Literature  at  Oxford  who  read 
the  Oxford  Final  Honours  School  of  English  Language  and  Literature  at  Oxford 
and  no  other  school:  which  marks  a  certain  level  in  a  sense  of  professionalism 
at  Oxford  (see  W.  K.  Wimsatt’s  review  in  MLR,  April  1969). 

One  should  add  some  other  studies  in  this  field  and  vein.  Walter  J.  Ong’s 
address  on  ‘The  Expanding  Humanities  and  the  Individual  Scholar’,  pmla,  Sep¬ 
tember  1967;  Helen  C.  White’s  ‘Changing  Styles  in  Literary  Studies’,  Cambridge 
u.p.,  1963;  and  Richard  Schlatter’s  privately  circulated  acls  lecture  on  the 
humanities  in  the  U.S.  The  following  have  special  relevance  for  Canadians:  The 
Humanities  in  Canada,  ed.  F.  E.  L.  Priestley  (Toronto,  1964),  with  supplement 
ed.  R.  M.  Wiles  (Toronto,  1966),  and  Scholarship  in  Canada  1967,  ed.  R.  H. 
Hubbard  (Toronto  u.p.  for  the  Royal  Society,  1968). 

R.  J.  SCHOECK 

Department  of  English 
St.  Michael’s  College 


The  University  and  the  City 


“The  consequence  of  the  image  will  be  the  image  of  the  consequences” 

HEINRICH  HERTZ 

In  terms  of  gestalt  psychology  everything  acts  as  a  figure  in  a  ground  or 
environment.  The  interface  between  any  figure  and  its  ground  is  a 
resonant  interface  of  continuous  change  and  development,  often  result¬ 
ing  in  a  reversal  of  roles.  Thus,  the  university  as  figure  in  urban  ground 
loses  this  character  as  soon  as  it  reaches  the  proportions  of  being  an 
environment.  The  genius  loci  is  lost  at  the  moment  that  the  spirit  is 
swamped  in  material  surround.  Hopkins  devotes  his  sonnet  on  Duns 
Scotus’s  Oxford  to  this  figure-ground  pattern: 

DUNS  SCOTUS’S  OXFORD 

Towery  city  and  branchy  between  towers; 

Cuckoo-echoing,  bell-swarmed,  lark-charmed,  rook-racked, 
river-rounded; 

The  dapple-eared  lily  below  thee;  that  country  and  town  did 
Once  encounter  in,  here  coped  and  poised  powers; 

Thou  hast  a  base  and  brickish  skirt  there,  sours 
that  neighbour-nature  thy  grey  beauty  is  grounded 
Best  in;  graceless  growth,  thou  hast  confounded 
Rural,  rural  keeping  —  folk,  flocks,  and  flowers. 

Yet  ah!  this  air  1  gather  and  1  release 

He  lived  on;  these  weeds  and  waters,  these  walls  are  what 

He  haunted  who  of  all  men  most  sways  my  spirits  to  peace; 

Of  realty  the  rarest-veined  unraveller;  a  not 
Rivalled  insight,  be  rival  Italy  or  Greece; 

Who  fired  France  for  Mary  without  spot. 

The  rivers  of  Oxford  created  a  bond  with  European  wool  markets  that 
made  Oxford  an  opulent  city  in  the  middle  ages.  Since  then  Oxford  has 
been  ruined  by  the  motor  industry. 


76  Explorations 


In  terms  of  figure-ground  it  is  easy  to  see  why  Cambridge  gave 
England  nearly  all  her  poets.  Even  today  Cambridge  university  has  an 
agrarian  ground.  Further,  Cambridge  stress  on  science  has  always 
kept  in  touch  with  the  natural  ground  of  the  university  as  the  innova- 
tional  knowledge  of  each  age.  The  poet  as  figure  in  a  ground  of 
contemporary  science,  the  city  as  figure  in  rural  or  agrarian  ground, 
loses  its  urbanity  at  the  moment  that  it  is  transformed  by  a  multitude  of 
specialized  activities.  Such  activities  soon  are  directed  away  from  the  city 
community  to  the  supplying  of  markets  alien  to  the  urban  community. 

The  university  as  figure  fosters  dialogue  ordered  to  the  pursuit  and 
contemplation  of  the  knowledge  of  the  natures  of  things.  The  city  as 
ground  to  such  a  university  is  concerned  with  the  application  of  knowl¬ 
edge.  Applied  knowledge  is  harnessing  natural  forces  by  specialist 
fragmentation  of  functions. 

An  extreme  instance  of  the  reversing  of  the  figure-ground  functions  of 
university  and  industry  occurs  in  the  classic  definition  of  a  liberal 
education  by  Thomas  H.  Huxley: 

Those  who  take  honors  in  Nature’s  university,  who  learn  the  laws  which 
govern  men  and  things  and  obey  them,  are  the  really  great  and  successful 
men  in  this  world.  The  great  mass  of  mankind  are  the  ‘Poll,’  who  pick  up 
just  enough  to  get  through  without  much  discredit.  Those  who  won’t  learn 
at  all  are  plucked;  and  then  you  can’t  come  up  again.  Nature’s  pluck  means 
extermination. 

Thus  the  question  of  compulsory  education  is  settled  so  far  as  Nature  is 
concerned.  Her  bill  on  that  question  was  framed  and  passed  long  ago.  But, 
like  all  compulsory  legislation,  that  of  Nature  is  harsh  and  wasteful  in  its 
operation.  Ignorance  is  visited  as  sharply  as  wilful  disobedience  -  incapacity 
meets  with  the  same  punishment  as  crime.  Nature’s  discipline  is  not  even  a 
word  and  a  blow,  and  the  blow  comes  first;  but  the  blow  without  the  word. 
It  is  left  you  to  find  out  why  your  ears  are  boxed. 

The  object  of  what  we  commonly  call  education  -  that  education  in  which 
man  intervenes  and  which  I  shall  distinguish  as  artificial  education  -  is  to 


77  April  1970 


make  good  these  defects  in  Nature’s  methods;  to  prepare  the  child  to  receive 
Nature’s  education,  neither  incapably  nor  ignorantly,  nor  with  wilful  dis¬ 
obedience;  and  to  understand  the  preliminary  symptoms  of  her  displeasure, 
without  waiting  for  the  box  on  the  ear.  In  short,  all  artificial  education  ought 
to  be  an  anticipation  of  natural  education.  And  a  liberal  education  is  an 
artificial  education  which  has  not  only  prepared  a  man  to  escape  the  great 
evils  of  disobedience  to  natural  laws,  but  has  trained  him  to  appreciate  and 
to  seize  upon  the  rewards,  which  Nature  scatters  with  as  free  a  hand  as  her 
penalties. 

That  man,  I  think,  has  had  a  liberal  education,  who  has  been  so.  trained  in 
youth  that  his  body  is  the  ready  servant  of  his  will,  and  does  with  ease  and 
pleasure  all  the  work  that,  as  a  mechanism,  it  is  capable  of;  whose  intellect 
is  a  clear,  cold,  logic  engine,  with  all  its  parts  of  equal  strength,  and  in 
smooth  working  order;  ready,  like  a  steam  engine,  to  be  turned  to  any  kind 
of  work,  and  spin  the  gossamers  as  well  as  forge  the  anchors  of  the  mind; 
whose  mind  is  stored  with  a  knowledge  of  the  great  and  fundamental  truths 
of  Nature  and  of  the  laws  of  her  operations;  one  who,  no  stunted  ascetic,  is 
full  of  life  and  fire,  but  whose  passions  are  trained  to  come  to  heel  by  a 
vigorous  will,  the  servant  of  a  tender  conscience;  who  has  learned  to  love  all 
beauty,  whether  of  Nature  or  of  art,  to  hate  all  vileness,  and  to  respect  others 
as  himself. 

Such  an  one,  and  no  other,  I  conceive,  has  had  a  liberal  education;  for  he 
is,  as  completely  as  a  man  can  be,  in  harmony  with  Nature.  He  will  make 
the  best  of  her,  and  she  of  him.  They  will  get  on  together  rarely;  she  as  his 
ever  beneficient  mother;  he  as  her  mouthpiece,  her  conscious  self,  her 
minister  and  interpreter. 

Elbert  Hubbard's  Scrap  Book  (N.Y.,  W.  H.  Wise,  1923),  p.  91. 


In  the  present  age  the  school  and  college  as  figures  exist  against  a 
ground  of  electric  information  that  is  quite  the  obverse  of  the  mechani¬ 
cal-industrial  ground  that  obtained  until  recently. 

The  teacher  as  figure  against  a  student  ground  undergoes  many 


78  Explorations 


transformations.  Today  the  specialist  teacher  confronts  a  student  body 
that  is  richly  stored  with  encyclopedic  data  from  the  new  information 
environment  of  pictures,  mags,  recordings  and  broadcasts.  The  students 
are  naturally  swinging  back  to  the  tribal  encyclopedia  of  the  bardic 
tradition  and  oral  culture.  This  clash  creates  not  resonance  but  hang-up. 

The  parallel  clash  in  the  city-university  figure-ground  relation  is  the 
huge  university  bureaucracy  as  figure  becoming  a  “police  state”  by 
virtue  of  enhanced  speed  and  efficiency. 

Any  bureaucratic  organization  starts  as  figure  in  a  non-bureaucratic 
ground.  As  its  services  extend  they  become  ground.  As  its  services 
extend  they  become  ground.  The  means  become  end. 

Today  the  entire  Establishment,  whether  government,  military, 
religious  or  educational,  is  bureaucracy  not  as  figure  but  as  ground;  that 
is,  they  constitute  a  total  police  state  keeping  everybody  ‘under 
surveillance. 

Pushed  to  this  extreme  all  bureaucracies  break  down  for  lack  of  the 
figure-ground  interface.  They  become  disservices  rather  than  services, 
and  thus  release  those  they  had  serviced  to  become  an  anti-environment. 
The  opposition  becomes  a  new  figure,  which  quickly  swells  to  ground 
dimensions. 

In  an  environment  of  instant  information  the  young  process  the  new 
environment  by  immersion.  The  bureaucracy  spends  its  time  classifying 
the  same.  The  result  is  that  the  young  abandon  the  bureaucracy  as  a 
complementary  interface.  When  the  young  go  integral  they  will  not 
accommodate  to  specialism. 

Globally,  the  environment  of  electric  information  has  reinvigorated 
all  tribal  forms  in  backward  or  non-literate  societies  while  reinstating 
tribal  culture  in  literate  Western  societies  with  their  highly  developed 
bureaucracy. 

In  both  backward  and  forward  societies  the  students  constitute  a 
rebellious  and  antithetic  ground  that  is  recognizably  and  consciously 
unified  by  attitude  and  percept  in  spite  of  the  utmost  diversity  of  geo- 


79  April  1970 


graphy  and  ideology.  Today  the  ‘university  of  the  air’  is  figure  to  ‘the 
university  of  being’  as  ground. 

The  students  on  each  campus  are  complementary  to  the  students  of 
the  world  as  ground.  This  is  the  result  of  the  new  rim-spin  that  reshapes 
and  rearranges  all  formal  structures. 

Bureaucracies  respond  to  the  new  instant  speeds  centrifugally  by 
explosion,  while  the  students  respond  centripetally  by  integral  implosion 
and  unity.  The  same  pattern  resonates  via  the  same  new  speed  in  each 
sector  of  the  old  bureaucracies;  e.g.,  money  as  figure  in  the  new  com¬ 
puter  ground  (or  global  rim-spin)  performs  innumerable  additional 
transactions.  It  ‘inflates’.  The  satisfactions  obtainable  from  high-speed 
transactions  decrease  exponentially.  That  is,  depression  as  comple¬ 
mentary  to  inflation. 

“How  would  I  know,”  asked  Henri  Bergson,  “if  all  the  events  in  my 
world  were  to  double  in  speed  while  retaining  their  ratios?  Simply  by 
virtue  of  the  impoverishment  of  my  consciousness.”  Such  is  the  inevitable 
penalty  of  acceleration  as  observed  by  Brooks  Adams  in  his  Law  of 
Civilization  and  Decay : 

In  proportion  as  movement  accelerates  societies  consolidate,  and  as  societies 
consolidate  they  pass  through  a  profound  intellectual  change.  Energy  ceases 
to  find  vent  through  the  imagination,  and  takes  the  form  of  capital;  hence  as 
civilizations  advance,  the  imaginative  temperament  tends  to  disappear,  while 
the  economic  instinct  is  fostered,  and  thus  substantially  new  varieties  of  men 
come  to  possess  the  world. 

Nothing  so  portentous  overhangs  humanity  as  this  mysterious  and  relent¬ 
less  acceleration  of  movement,  which  changes  methods  of  competition  and 
alters  paths  of  trade;  for  by  it  countless  millions  of  men  and  women  are 
foredoomed  to  happiness  or  misery,  as  certainly  as  the  beasts  and  trees, 
which  have  flourished  in  the  wilderness,  are  destined  to  vanish  when  the  soil 
is  subdued  by  man. 

The  Romans  amassed  the  treasure  by  which  they  administered  their 
Empire,  through  the  plunder  and  enslavement  of  the  world.  The  Empire 


80  Explorations 


cemented  by  that  treasure  crumbled  when  adverse  exchanges  carried  the 
bullion  of  Italy  to  the  shore  of  the  Bosphorus.  An  accelerated  movement 
among  the  semi-barbarians  of  the  West  caused  the  agony  of  the  crusades, 
amidst  which  Constantinople  fell  as  the  Italian  cities  rose;  while  Venice  and 
Genoa,  and  with  them  the  whole  Arabic  civilization,  shrivelled,  when  Portu¬ 
gal  established  direct  communication  with  Hindostan. 

The  same  ‘depression’  affects  any  institution  of  learning  where  the  speed 
of  data  and  credit  processing  depresses  dialogue,  or  interface  and 
discovery. 

Any  bureaucracy  of  specialized  functions  collapses  when  the  rim- 
spin  increases.  The  satellite  environment  has  retired  or  scrapped  ‘nature’ 
and  turned  the  planet  into  an  art  form.  Such  is  the  fate  of  any  structure 
as  figure  when  subjected  to  a  new  surround  of  innovational  services. 
The  older  structures  are  retired  to  the  museum  of  classified  art  forms. 

The  agrarian  world  was  scrapped  as  it  was  invested  by  the  new 
service  environments  of  rail  and  highway.  With  jet-surround,  however, 
the  industrial  city,  created  by  rail  and  road,  was  scrapped  by  airplane 
services,  just  as,  earlier,  the  motor  car  had  created  a  suburban  surround 
that  turned  the  old  city  core  into  an  art  form  of  obsolescent  services. 

The  example  of  the  popular  movie  ‘Z’  may  help  to  illustrate  some  of 
the  hang-ups  resulting  from  the  increased  ‘efficiency’  of  the  old  bureau¬ 
cracy.  The  most  benevolent  and  democratic  regime  quickly  becomes  a 
‘police  state’  in  an  electric  environment.  Everybody  is  automatically  put 
into  a  data  bank.  The  mere  speed-up  of  inter-relationships  terminates 
all  the  old  patterns  of  casual  social  life.  Both  ‘public’  and  ‘privacy’ 
disappear  in  a  new  tribal  involvement  of  everybody  in  everybody.  Mean¬ 
time,  the  bureaucratic  regime  pursues  its  specialist  policies  while  remain¬ 
ing  impotent  to  permit  the  participation  of  its  subjects.  The  resulting 
frustration  creates  rage  and  suspicion. 


MARSHALL  MCLUHAN 


ROBERT  LANSDALE,  standing,  had  a  lighting  problem  when  assigned  to 
make  a  colour  portrait  of  the  Great  Telescope  at  the  David  Dunlap  Observa¬ 
tory.  This  photograph  from  News  and  Comments ,  published  by  Professional 
Photographers  of  Canada,  Inc.,  illustrates  how  he  solved  it.  Helium-filled 
balloons  lifted  his  slave  units  (flashlight  extensions)  high  in  the  dome.  The 
result  was  a  first  class  picture. 


81 


UNIVERSITIES  IN  ISRAEL  .  .  . 


( Continued  from  page  48) 
before  the  start  of  the  academic  year, 
is  available  for  all  overseas  students. 
Summer  Course 

The  month-long  course  is  open  to 
all  students  and  teachers  who  have 
completed  at  least  one  year  of  Uni¬ 
versity  studies.  The  credit  courses 
offered  are  given  in  English  and  in¬ 
clude  an  introduction  to  the  archeo¬ 
logy  of  the  Holy  Land,  studies  of  the 
contemporary  Middle  East,  the  gov¬ 
ernment  and  politics  of  Israel,  He¬ 
brew  language  and  literature. 

In  the  academic  year  beginning 
November  1969,  there  will  be  a 
student  enrolment  of  about  13,500, 
with  the  number  of  foreign  students 
being  over  2000.  Of  these  1000  will 
be  from  North  America,  with  161 
being  from  Canada. 

Canadians  have  helped  in  sponsor¬ 
ing  many  of  the  modernistic  buildings 
on  campus  among  them  —  Canada 
Hall,  the  Faculty  of  Law  building, 
Vincent  Massey  Hall,  the  Mona 
Bronfman  Sheckman  Amphitheatre, 
and  the  Moses  Bernard  Lauterman 
Institute  of  Humanities. 

Tel- Aviv  University 

Higher  education  is  a  necessity  to¬ 
day  for  most  peoples.  For  the  people 
of  Israel,  it  is  a  question  of  survival. 
Short  of  most  natural  resources,  Israel 
is  rich  in  the  most  precious  resource 
of  all  —  its  people. 

Out  of  this  awareness  that  the 
country  is  dependent  on  a  continuing 

82 


supply  of  trained  professional  man¬ 
power  in  all  fields,  was  born  what  is 
today  Israel’s  second  largest  institu¬ 
tion  of  higher  education  —  Tel-Aviv 
University. 

The  need  was  urgent  for  the  Tel- 
Aviv  secondary  school  graduates  who 
were  prevented  from  continuing  their 
education  by  the  expense  involved  in 
living  away  from  home,  in  other  parts 
of  the  country  where  the  already  over¬ 
crowded  institutions  of  higher  learn¬ 
ing  existed.  The  story  of  Tel-Aviv 
University  echoes  the  miracles  and 
achievements  which  comprise  the  his¬ 
tory  of  the  State  of  Israel. 

The  University  was  established  as 
a  municipal  teaching  institution  in 
1956  by  the  City  of  Tel-Aviv.  In  1961 
a  committee  headed  by  former  Prime 
Minister  and  Foreign  Minister  Moshe 
Sharett  recommended  the  develop¬ 
ment  of  the  existing  institution  into  a 
full,  independent  university  with  faci¬ 
lities  that  would  meet  the  crucial  re¬ 
quirements  of  Greater  Tel-Aviv  — 
Israel’s  largest  metropolitan  area,  in 
which  about  one  half  of  the  country’s 
entire  population  is  concentrated. 

At  the  time,  the  University  was 
situated  in  Abu  Kabir  (Jaffa)  and  as 
recently  as  1963  only  1471  students 
and  211  teachers  occupied  the  few 
pre-fabricated  buildings  that  existed. 
It  was  the  dedication  of  that  handful 
of  teachers  throughout  seven  difficult 
years  and  the  hunger  for  knowledge 
of  those  students  that  made  it  pos¬ 
sible  for  the  institution  to  survive. 

university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


The  author  makes  some  new  friends  in  Israel 


Dr.  George  S.  Wise  was  installed 
as  the  University’s  president  in  1963 
and  under  his  direction  the  Univer¬ 
sity  adopted  a  broad  development 
program.  It  called  for  the  creation  of 
a  new  campus,  the  raising  of  funds 
for  buildings,  lecture  halls  and  labora¬ 
tories;  the  formation  of  an  expanded 
staff  by  attracting  back  to  Israel  many 
distinguished  young  educators  who 
were  teaching  abroad  and  the  creation 
of  a  full  academic  program  on  the 
graduate  and  undergraduate  levels. 

Friends  of  the  University  in  many 
countries  pledged  their  assistance  and 
support.  They  are  now  being  called 
upon  to  contribute  even  more  for  the 
University’s  future  needs. 

At  the  present  stage  16  large,  mod¬ 
ern  buildings  have  been  constructed 


and  equipped.  The  Central  Library 
was  completed  in  time  for  the  1968- 
69  academic  year  and  half  a  dozen 
other  buildings  will  be  ready  for  the 
1969-70  academic  year,  buildings 
which,  when  completed,  will  provide 
the  University  with  facilities  to  train 
some  12,000  students  in  the  various 
disciplines. 

The  Israeli  Government  and  the 
Municipality  of  Tel  Aviv  extend  sub¬ 
stantial  assistance  to  make  the  de¬ 
velopment  program  possible.  The 
University  is  now  equipped  to  pro¬ 
vide  Israel  with  the  trained  men  and 
women  needed  by  a  rapidly  develop¬ 
ing  country  and  has  become  one  of 
the  leading  academic  and  scientific 
institutions  in  the  world. 

In  1968-69  the  University  had  an 


April  1970 


83 


enrolment  of  9300  students  and  1800 
faculty  members. 

Some  of  the  most  recent  estab¬ 
lished  schools  and  institutes  include: 
The  Leon  Recanati  Graduate  School 
of  Business  Administration  which  is 
the  only  graduate  school  of  business 
administration  in  this  country  dedi¬ 
cated  to  two  basic  objectives:  firstly, 
regular  academic  graduate  studies  in 
business  administration,  finance,  mar¬ 
keting  and  other  aspects  of  mana¬ 
gerial  responsibilities;  and  secondly, 
intensive  short  courses  for  top  level 
and  medium  level  managerial  person¬ 
nel  of  Israeli  companies,  government 
offices  and  institutions,  made  possible 
through  a  generous  grant  of  the  Eng¬ 
lish  Rothschild  Foundation  “Hana- 
div.”  Participants  in  these  seminars, 
during  the  past  three  years,  consisted 
of  the  directors-general  and  top  man¬ 
agers  of  Israeli  governmental  and  pri¬ 
vate  enterprises.  Leading  international 
academic  figures  in  the  field  and  heads 
of  outstanding  economic  and  banking 
enterprises  provided  insight,  stimula¬ 
tion  and  experience  to  the  partici¬ 
pants. 

The  planned  Centre  of  Technologi¬ 
cal  Sciences  designed  to  offer  en¬ 
gineering  sciences  leading  to  the 
degree  of  Master  of  Science  and  to 
the  Doctorate  will  be  an  important 
step  towards  the  systematic  teaching 
of  the  advances  in  technology,  based 
on  the  applications  of  physics,  chem¬ 
istry  and  mathematics,  to  students 
who  graduated  in  the  sciences  or  in 
engineering.  At  a  later  stage  this  tech¬ 
nical  centre  will  also  offer  engineering 

84 


studies  predicated  upon  the  mastering 
in  both  breadth  and  depth  of  the 
natural  sciences;  and  upon  the  prin¬ 
ciples  and  requirements  of  engineer¬ 
ing  science. 

A  Latin  American  Institute,  which 
will  be  dedicated  to  the  study  of  the 
Spanish  and  Portuguese  languages,  as 
well  as  the  culture,  history,  social  and 
economic  developments  and  art  of  the 
countries  of  Latin  America.  By  estab¬ 
lishing  this  institute,  Tel-Aviv  Univer¬ 
sity  will  open  to  Israeli  students  the 
multiple  aspects  of  the  culture  and 
civilization  of  Latin  America;  it  will 
promote  the  exchange  of  professors 
and  scholars  between  Tel-Aviv  and 
the  leading  educational  institutions  of 
Latin  America;  it  will  serve  as  a 
strong  spiritual  and  intellectual  link 
between  Israel  and  the  Jewish  com¬ 
munities  of  Latin  America  and  finally, 
it  will  effectively  strengthen  the  rela¬ 
tions  between  Israel  and  the  people 
of  Latin  America  who  have  shown 
unswerving  understanding,  friendship 
and  support  for  Israel  over  the  last 
two  decades. 

The  Overseas  Student  Program : 
Conscious  of  its  responsibilities  to  the 
Jewish  people  throughout  the  world, 
Tel-Aviv  University  in  September 
1967  initiated  a  program  designed  to 
enable  students  from  abroad  to  study 
one  or  more  years  at  Tel-Aviv  Uni¬ 
versity,  receiving  full  credits  from 
their  home  universities  for  the  work 
completed  at  Tel-Aviv.  The  Univer¬ 
sity  now  has  450  foreign  students, 
200  of  whom  arrived  in  July  from  the 
United  States. 

university  of  Toronto  Graduate 


School  of  Social  Work,  Hebrew  University,  Jerusalem 


Gifts  by  generous  contributors  in 
various  parts  of  the  world  and  the 
support  of  the  Israeli  government 
have  made  possible  the  construction 
of  the  first  student  hostels.  Thus  Tel- 
Aviv  University  will  be  able  to  admit 
and  accommodate  1000  students 
from  abroad  for  the  academic  year 
beginning  October  1969. 

A  Canadian  student  who  wants  to 
study  for  a  year  at  Tel-Aviv  Univer¬ 
sity  pays  $1950  for  the  year,  this 
includes  tourist  air  fare  to  Israel  and 
return,  fees,  and  complete  room  and 
board.  The  Israeli  student  pays  $275 
fees  per  annum.  The  average  Israeli 
student  who  enters  university  is  21 
years  old,  since  he  has  to  serve  in  the 
armed  forces  for  a  period  of  3  years, 
prior  to  entering  his  studies.  About 
60  per  cent  of  the  Israeli  students 
have  to  work  during  their  academic 
training. 

Bar-llan  University 

Bar-Ilan  University  in  Tel-Aviv  is 
the  first  Israeli  religious  university, 


profoundly  concerned  with  the  shape 
of  Jewish  existence  —  both  with  the 
rich  heritage  of  the  past  and  with  the 
application  of  that  heritage  to  the 
present  and  to  the  future. 

When  Israel’s  President  Zalman 
Shazar  received  an  honorary  doctor¬ 
ate  in  Jewish  Letters  from  Bar-Ilan 
last  year,  he  paid  special  tribute  to 
the  university  for  its  role  in  “finding 
ways  to  the  hearts  and  minds  of  the 
young  generation,  thirsting  for  knowl¬ 
edge  and  faith,  both  in  Israel  and  the 
Diaspora.” 

The  creation  of  a  university  with  so 
particular  and  noble  a  purpose  was 
the  dream  and  the  labour  of  the  late 
Dr.  Pinchas  Churgin,  the  American 
educator,  founder  and  first  president 
of  Bar-Ilan,  who  had  envisioned  and 
worked  toward  this  end  since  1950. 
Bar-Ilan  opened  its  doors  four  years 
later,  in  1954  with  a  faculty  of  14 
teachers,  an  enrollment  of  70  students 
and  a  curriculum  which  embraced  31 
courses.  Since  then,  it  has  expanded 
to  a  staff  of  550,  a  student  body  of 


April  1970 


85 


4200  and  a  curriculum  which  now 
includes  more  than  1100  courses. 

Accreditation  in  U.S.:  These  statis¬ 
tics  in  themselves  are  only  a  partial 
indication  of  the  academic  eminence 
the  university  has  achieved  in  its 
brief  15  years.  In  addition  to  the 
recognition  granted  by  the  Council  of 
Higher  Education  in  Israel;  Bar-Ilan 
has  been  chartered  by  the  University 
of  the  State  of  New  York;  it  is  the 
only  university  in  Israel  enjoying  this 
status.  This  means  that  American  stu¬ 
dents  can  transfer  to  Bar-Ilan  for  their 
junior  years,  or  for  longer  periods  of 
time,  with  no  loss  of  credits  either 
from  their  colleges  in  the  U.S.  or 
from  Bar-Ilan. 

In  addition  to  the  undergraduate 
faculties  in  the  humanities,  Jewish 
studies,  the  social  sciences  and  in  the 
natural  sciences,  Bar-Ilan  has  also  de¬ 
veloped  a  complex  of  graduate  studies 
in  most  of  its  departments,  where 
qualified  students  can  obtain  ad¬ 
vanced  degrees  of  Arts  and  Master  of 
Science,  and  the  university  has  also 
gained  the  right  to  grant  doctorates 
in  Hebrew  literature,  world  literature, 
Talmud,  Jewish  history,  general  philo¬ 
sophy  and  Jewish  philosophy,  Eng¬ 
lish,  and  chemistry. 

Bar-Ilan’s  educational  administra,- 
tion  has  followed  that  of  American 
universities  and  has,  consequently, 
been  particularly  successful  in  de¬ 
veloping  a  substantial  exchange  of 
students  between  the  U.S.  and  Israel. 

In  1968-69,  3758  students  were  at¬ 
tending  regular  courses  at  Bar-Ilan 
University,  and  350  were  taking 
special  courses  (in  Criminology,  Edu¬ 


cation  Counselling,  and  Teacher 
training).  The  distribution  according 
to  the  origin  of  the  students,  is  as 
follows:  Israel,  1792;  Middle  East 
countries,  488;  Europe,  1297;  United 
States,  89;  and  others,  92. 

The  student  body  includes  410 
visiting  students  from  foreign  coun¬ 
tries  and  228  new  immigrants.  The 
number  of  students  who  have  immi¬ 
grated  to  Israel  since  the  establish¬ 
ment  of  the  State  is  1553.  The  visiting 
students  come  from  Austria,  Aus¬ 
tralia,  Argentine,  Belgium,  Brazil, 
Canada,  Chile,  Colombia,  Denmark, 
England,  France,  Germany,  Holland, 
India,  Iran,  Italy,  Ireland,  Mexico, 
Panama,  Sweden,  Switzerland,  South 
Africa,  Turkey,  Uruguay,  United 
States,  and  Venezuela. 

Professor  Ben  Lappin,  of  the 
School  of  Social  Work,  University  of 
Toronto  spent  part  of  his  sabbatical 
year  in  1967-68  helping  the  School 
of  Social  Work  at  Bar-Ilan  to  develop 
a  community  organization  program. 

I  have  not  dealt  in  this  article  with 
Haifa  University,  The  Technion  (Is¬ 
rael  Institute  of  Technology),  in 
Haifa,  and  The  Weizmann  Institute 
of  Science  in  Rehovot,  three  impor¬ 
tant  institutions.  For  the  visitor  to 
Israel  or  the  student  and  faculty 
members  from  Canadian  Universities 
the  growth  and  challenges  faced  by 
Israel’s  Institutes  of  Higher  Learning 
are  indeed  a  proud  achievement  to 
witness.  If  you  have  a  chance  to  visit 
Israel,  be  sure  to  visit  some  of  the 
universities.  Regular  tours  in  English 
are  offered  by  all  of  them. 


86 


Businessmen  concerned  in  making  executive  de¬ 
cisions  often  make  reference  to  the  authoritative 
Business  Review  published  monthly  by  the  Bank 
of  Montreal.  Experience  has  taught  them  they 
can  rely  on  this  concise  report  for  factual  infor¬ 
mation  and  for  accurate  interpretation  of  eco¬ 
nomic  developments  affecting  their  particular 
business  interests. 

This  monthly  diagnosis  of  the  current  Cana¬ 
dian  economic  scene  is  prepared  at  the  B  of  M’s 
Head  Office  by  economists  having  the  sources 
and  the  experience  of  Canada’s  first  bank  at  their 
disposal.  If  you  feel  it  would  be  of  value  in  your 
work,  a  note  to  the  Commercial  Services  Manager, 

Bank  of  Montreal,  P.O.  Box  6002,  Montreal, 
will  put  you  on  our  regular  mailing  list. 

Bank  of  Montreal 

Canada’s  First  Bank 

ASSETS  EXCEED  $5,500,000,000 

OVER  1000  OFFICES  IN  CANADA,  U.S.,  UNITED  KINGDOM  AND  CONTINENTAL  EUROPE,  MEXICO  AND  JAPAN 


87 


When  the  word  came  that 
a  start  would  be  made 
on  the  Humanities  and 
Social  Sciences  Research 
Library  and  the  School 
of  Library  Science,  the 
author,  right,  and  Dr. 
Robert  Blackburn,  Chief 
Librarian,  cheered  on  by 
senior  members  of  their 
staffs,  joined  in  an 
impromptu,  unofficial, 
but  highly  successful 
sod-turning  ceremony. 


LIBRARY  SCIENCE  AT  U  of  T  .  .  . 


( Continued  from  page  64) 
provided  by  Toronto  Public  Library. 
The  course  was  designed  primarily 
for  those  working  in  small  public  li¬ 
braries.  In  1921,  for  the  first  time,  all 
applicants  to  the  Ontario  Library 
School  who  did  not  have  a  university 
degree  or  high  school  matriculation 
standing  were  required  to  pass  an 
entrance  examination  which  included 
questions  on  history,  literature  and 
current  affairs. 

By  the  time  it  was  discontinued  in 


1927,  the  Ontario  Library  School  had 
graduated  more  than  350  persons, 
the  majority  of  whom  took  positions 
in  Ontario.  Among  the  instructors  in 
the  School  were  several  familiar 
names:  Dorothy  A.  Thompson  who, 
until  her  retirement  in  1968,  was 
Chief  Librarian  of  the  College  of 
Education;  Dr.  W.  Stewart  Wallace, 
Librarian  Emeritus  of  the  University 
of  Toronto;  and  Miss  Winifred  G. 
Barnstead,  first  Director  of  the  Uni¬ 
versity  of  Toronto  Library  School. 


Cedarvale  Tree  Cedarvale  Landscape 

Services  Limited  Services  Limited 


▲  ▲ 

A.  G.  SELLERS  .  F.  EARLE  MARTIN  W.  H.  LEE 

Vice-President  President  ^  Vice-President 


Head  Office:  1480  St.  Clair  Ave.  West,  Toronto 
Serving  Canadians  since  1923 


88 


In  March,  1928,  the  University’s 
Board  of  Governors  responded  to  a 
request  from  the  Minister  of  Educa¬ 
tion  for  improvement  in  the  prepara¬ 
tion  of  librarians  by  approving  a  one- 
year  course  in  librarianship  to  be  of¬ 
fered  by  a  newly  established  Library 
School.  The  new  School,  which  was 
located  on  the  third  floor  of  the  Col¬ 
lege  of  Education  and  connected  with 
ihe  College  for  administrative  pur¬ 
poses,  opened  its  doors  to  students  on 
September  25,  1928.  Minimum  en¬ 
trance  requirement  for  the  School 
was  Honour  Matriculation.  On  suc¬ 
cessful  completion  of  the  course,  a 
Diploma  was  awarded  by  the  Uni¬ 
versity  of  Toronto  and  a  Certificate 
was  granted  by  the  Department  of 
Education. 

The  courses  of  instruction  included 
such  subjects  as  book  selection,  bib¬ 
liography,  reference  work,  book  mak¬ 
ing  and  the  history  of  printing,  cata¬ 
loguing  and  classification,  library  ad¬ 
ministration,  school  library  work  and 
work  with  children.  A  period  of 
supervised  practice  work  in  libraries 
was  required  during  the  second  term. 

The  person  appointed  to  organize 
the  new  course  and  to  direct  the 


School  was  Miss  Winifred  G.  Barn- 
stead,  a  graduate  of  Dalhousie  Uni¬ 
versity  and  of  a  two-year  training 
course  for  librarians  at  Princeton 
University.  In  recommending  the  ap¬ 
pointment  of  the  new  Director,  the 
Dean  of  the  College  of  Education 
wrote  that,  “in  the  opinions  of  the 
experts  consulted,  no  other  available 
person  possesses  qualifications  for  this 
post  superior  to  Miss  Barnstead”.  Ap¬ 
pointed  full-time  assistant  and  Lec¬ 
turer  in  Library  Science  was  Miss 
Bertha  Bassam,  a  graduate  of  Queen’s 
University  and  the  Pratt  Institute, 
Brooklyn,  who  became  Director  in 
1951  on  Miss  Barnstead’s  retirement. 

Degree  Courses  Started 

Starting  with  the  1936-37  session, 
the  School  began  to  offer  two  courses : 
one  designed  for  university  graduates 
proceeding  to  the  degree  of  Bachelor 
of  Library  Science,  first  awarded  in 
1937;  the  other  for  those  holding  a 
Grade  XIII  certificate  proceeding  to 
the  University  Diploma.  The  latter 
course  was  not  offered  after  1946 
and  was  formally  withdrawn  in  1954. 

In  the  1950-51  session,  the  Library 
School,  in  conjunction  with  the  School 
of  Graduate  Studies,  began  to  offer 


So  near  at  hand,  yet  a  world  apart,  in  its  delightful  atmosphere  and  the 
unique  setting  of  its  spacious  grounds!  A  weekend  at  The  Guild  is  a  great 
refresher  for  professional  and  busy  people. 

GUILDWOOD  PARKWAY,  SCARBOROUGH  AM.  1-3331 


89 


to  graduates  of  approved  library 
schools  an  advanced  one-year  pro¬ 
gram  leading  to  the  degree  of  Master 
of  Library  Science.  This  program  was 
designed  to  provide  an  opportunity 
for  more  specialized  study  in  library 
science  and  related  fields  and  for 
training  in  methods  of  research.  The 
first  M.L.S.  degree  was  awarded  in 
1951,  the  first  such  degree  to  be 
awarded  in  Canada. 

The  most  significant  administrative 
development  for  the  School  in  recent 
years  was  its  establishment  in  July, 
1965,  as  a  separate  teaching  division 
of  the  University  under  its  new  name, 
the  School  of  Library  Science.  The 
change  in  administrative  status  came 
about  as  a  consequence  of  an  agree¬ 
ment  between  the  Minister  of  Educa¬ 


tion  and  the  Board  of  Governors  that 
the  University  should  assume  full  re¬ 
sponsibility  for  the  School.  The  1965 
Senate  statute  ended  37  years  of  ad¬ 
ministrative  ties  between  the  School 
and  the  College  of  Education.  In 
September  1965,  the  School  moved 
out  of  the  College  of  Education  to  its 
present  quarters  at  the  southwest 
corner  of  College  and  McCaul  streets. 

The  New  M.L.S.  Program 
Over  the  years,  the  nature  of  the 
programs  offered  by  the  School  has 
changed  in  response  to  needs.  Empha¬ 
sis  on  professional  techniques  has 
given  way  to  a  more  theoretical  and 
academic  approach.  The  most  recent 
change  has  been  the  decision  to  dis¬ 
continue  the  one-year  Bachelor  of 
Library  Science  program  and  to  re- 


COIMSULTIIMG  PROFESSIONAL  ENGINEERS 

BUILDINGS  □  COMPLEXES  □  TRANSPORTATION  □  INDUSTRIAL 


Planning  Reports 
Engineering  Design 
Architectural  Design 
Field  Supervision 
Project  Management 
Engineering  Studies 
Data  Processing 
Resources  Studies 


AND  ASSOCIATES  LIMITED 

TORONTO:  HEAD  OFFICE,  1155  LESLIE  ST.,  DON  MILLS,  ONT. 
ADM-7-69  BRANCH  OFFICE,  HALIFAX,  5670  SPRING  GARDEN  ROAD 


90 


place  it  with  a  new  two-year  program 
leading  to  the  degree  of  Master  of 
Library  Science  beginning  September, 
1970. 

The  change  to  the  two-year  M.L.S. 
program  has  been  hastened  by  the 
pressure  of  technological  innovation 
and  by  conflicting  demands  for  the 
education  of  specialists  and  general¬ 
ists.  The  necessary  introduction  of 
new  courses,  particularly  in  such 
fields  as  automation,  documentation, 
and  data  processing  and  the  presen¬ 
tation  of  courses  in  greater  depth 
were  also  factors  in  the  decision  to 
change.  The  two-year  program  will 
provide  a  greater  opportunity  both 


for  specialization  in  depth  within 
library  science  and  for  the  education 
of  generalists,  and  each  student  will 
be  able  to  design  a  career  program 
more  closely  suited  to  his  individual 
interests,  aptitudes  and  needs. 

The  Curriculum  Committee  of  the 
School  defines  the  goal  of  graduate 
education  for  librarianship  in  these 
words:  “The  ultimate  goal  should  be 
to  educate  students  who  are  able  to 
think  and  act  upon  the  issues  pre¬ 
sented  to  them  as  administrators, 
planners  or  practitioners.  The  em¬ 
phasis  of  the  education  should  be 
intellectual  and  theoretical  so  that 
librarians  can  think  creatively  about 


ARCHITECTS 


&vid& 


ALLWARD  &  GOUINLOCK 

ARCHITECTS 

HUGH  L.  ALLWARD.  F.R.A.I.C.,  F.R.I.B.A..  R.C.A.  PETER  A.  ALLWARD.  B.ARCH.,  M.R.A.I.C. 
ALFRED  T.  WEST.  JR..  B.ARCH..  M.R.A.I.C.  R.  MURRAY  LEGGE,  B.ARCH..  M.R.A.I.C. 

ARTHUR  G.  BARNES.  B.ARCH..  M.R.A.I.C. 

CONSULTANT  DOUGLAS  E.  CATTO.  B.ARCH..  F.R.A.I.C. 

ASSOCIATES 

A.  GRESLEY  ELTON.  F.R.A.I.C.  WILLIAM  S.  MILNER.  A.R.I.B.A.  M.R.A.I.C. 

ERIKS  BEBRIS.  B.ARCH..  M.R.A.I.C.  JAN  J.  HERFST.  M.R.A.I.C. 

KENNETH  H.  FOSTER.  B.ARCH.,  M.R.A.I.C. 


PAGE  &  STEELE  ARCHITECTS 


2  ST.  CLAIR  AVE.  W.,  TORONTO  7  •  67A  SPARKS  STREET,  OTTAWA  4 


91 


whatever  area  of  librarianship  they 
may  be  concerned  with.  Because  of 
the  continual  change  in  the  nature  of 
libraries  and  librarianship  it  is  not 
possible  for  library  educators  to  fore¬ 
see  all  the  needs  of  the  future.  There¬ 
fore,  they  should  endeavour  to  edu¬ 
cate  librarians  who  can  analyse  prob¬ 
lems  and  then  work  out  their  own 
solutions.  Library  education  should 
provide  a  methodology  which  will 


SHORE  &  MOFFAT 

AND  PARTNERS 

ARCHITECTS 
ENGINEERS 
SITE  PLANNERS 
L.  E.  SHORE,  B.Arch.,  FRAIC,  ARCA 
D.  ,M.  BLENKHORNE,  B.Arch.,  MRAIC 
W.  N.  GREER,  B.Arch.,  M.S.,  MRAIC 
A.  W.  HENSCHEl,  B.A.Sc.,  P.Eng.,  MEIC 
J.  R.  PETRINEC,  B.A.Sc.,  P.Eng.,  MEIC 
P.  M.  STAFFORD,  B.Arch.,  MRAIC 
J.  E.  STANNERS,  B.A.Sc.,  P.Eng.,  MEIC 
A.  P.  TUBE,  B.Arch.,  MRAIC 
100  UNIVERSITY  AVENUE 
TORONTO  1  A,  ONTARIO,  CANADA 


C.  D.  CARRUTHERS  &  WALLACE 
CONSULTANTS  LIMITED 

1320  Yonge  St.,  Toronto  7 

Consulting  Structural  Engineers 

CLARE  D.  CARRUTHERS,  B.A.SC.,  M.E.I.C.,  P.ENG. 
R.  L.  BOOTH,  B.A.SC.,  M.E.I.C.,  P.ENO. 

C.  E.  WELSH,  B.A.SC.,  M.E.I.C.,  P.ENO. 

A.  A.  HEARNDEN 


enable  librarians  to  function  effec¬ 
tively  in  any  professional  situation.” 

The  new  M.L.S.  program  will  con¬ 
sist  of  core  courses  and  elective 
courses.  The  core  courses,  required 
of  all  students,  will  be  concerned  with 
subjects  with  which  every  practising 
librarian  must  be  acquainted  regard¬ 
less  of  the  kind  of  work  in  which  he 
engages.  The  core  courses  will  deal 
with  the  social  environment  and  the 
library,  the  organization  of  informa¬ 
tion,  information  resources  and  li¬ 
brary  collections,  library  administra¬ 
tion  and  research  methods.  The  elec¬ 
tive  courses,  which  will  comprise  half 
the  program,  will  be  chosen  by  the 
student  according  to  his  area  of  spe¬ 
cialization.  One  area  of  specialization 
might  deal  with  the  study  of  a  broad 
spectrum  of  library  services  and  prob¬ 
lems;  other  areas  might  involve  the 
study  of  particular  functions,  subject 
areas,  types  of  material,  types  of  li¬ 
brary  and  community  services,  or  a 
combination  of  these.  Within  these 
areas  of  specialization,  the  student 
will  be  able  to  concentrate  on  research 
and  experimental  design  in  his  ap¬ 
proach  as  well  as  on  professional  prac¬ 
tice.  The  student  will  be  able  to 
relate  developments  in  library  science 


Nicholas  Fodor  and  Associates  Limited 


Consulting  Engineers 

Complete  Engineering  Services 


Offices: 

Toronto,  London,  Ottawa 
Montreal,  Moncton 


FODOR 

92 


to  those  in  other  disciplines  through 
courses  taken  in  other  graduate  de¬ 
partments  of  the  University. 

International  Accreditation 
The  University  of  Toronto  School 
of  Library  Science  is  one  of  48  ac¬ 
credited  graduate  library  schools  in 
the  United  States  and  Canada,  the 
other  accredited  Canadian  schools  be¬ 
ing  located  at  the  universities  of 
British  Columbia,  McGill,  Montreal 
and  Western  Ontario.  In  addition, 
there  are  library  schools  at  Alberta, 
Dalhousie  and  Ottawa.  The  standards 
for  accreditation,  developed  by  the 
Committee  on  Accreditation  of  the 
American  Library  Association,  have 
been  endorsed  by  the  Canadian  Li¬ 
brary  Association.  The  Standards  deal 
with  such  matters  as  organization  and 
administration,  financial  status,  fac¬ 
ulty,  administrative  and  non-instruc- 
tional  staff,  curriculum,  admission 
requirements,  degrees  awarded,  quar¬ 
ters  and  equipment,  and  library  facili¬ 
ties  and  services.  Toronto  was  origin¬ 
ally  accredited  in  1937,  was  re-accre¬ 
dited  in  1956  under  the  revised  stan¬ 
dards  for  accreditation  and  subse¬ 
quently  has  had  its  accreditation  re¬ 
affirmed  under  the  present  procedure 
for  a  continuing  annual  review  of  li¬ 
brary  schools.  By  virtue  of  its  accre¬ 
ditation,  the  School  is  a  member  of 
the  Association  of  American  Library 
Schools.  The  advantages  of  interna¬ 
tional  accreditation  to  graduates  of 
accredited  Canadian  library  schools 
who  wish  to  proceed  to  doctoral 
studies  or  to  work  in  the  United  States 
is  in  knowing  beforehand  that  their 
Canadian  qualifications  will  be  rec- 


lllll  MATHERS  &  HALDENBY 

architects  planners 


DOUGLAS  C  HALDENBY 
ANDREW  S.  MATHERS 
J.  M.  BARSTOW 
F.  W.  WOODCOCK 
R  S  GREEN 
R  BROWN 
C.  A.  JACKSON 
W.  A  MARTIN 
J  L  SCOTT 
M  M  BROWN 
J.  L.  ALLWARD 


8. ARCH.,  F.R.A.I.C. 
B  ARCH..  M.R.A.I.C. 

M.R.A.I.C. 
F.C.I.Q.S..  F  I. A  S.,  M  R  S.H. 
SPECIFICATIONS  &  RESEARCH. 
DIP.  ARCH.,  DIP.  T.  P..  A  R  I.B.A. 

PROJ  COORDINATOR. 
M.R.A.I.C.,  A. R. I.B.A. 
B.ARCH.,  M.R.A.I.C. 
B  ARCH  .  M.R.A.I.C. 
M.R.A.I.C.,  A. R. I.B.A. 


10  st.  mary  street,  toronto  189,  Ontario  416.  924-9201 


J.  T.  DONALD  &  CO.  LTD. 


ENGINEERING  INSPECTION 
SOILS  INVESTIGATION 
CHEMICAL  ANALYSES 


TORONTO  HAMILTON 

MONTREAL  HALIFAX 


GORDON  S.  ADAMSON 
AND  ASSOCIATES 

ARCHITECTS  AND  SITE  PLANNERS 


CORDON  S  ADAMSON  awoiniAJCACAacio  KEITH  SPRATLEY  •  amouma'c 

FREDERICK  E  FLETCHER  too  DEMETRI  ZAVTTZlANOScw.  ct  mcc  »cnq 

JOHN  H  BON  NICK  *a#oim"a>c  GARFIELD  M*clNNIS  •  maaic 

VLADAN  MILC  u»c  WJ  WELLER  m*ac 


123  EGLINTON  AVE.  EAST  TORONTO 


93 


ognized  by  American  schools  and  li¬ 
braries. 

Doctoral  Program 

Although  there  are  doctoral  pro¬ 
grams  in  library  science  at  15  of  the 
accredited  library  schools  in  the  Uni¬ 
ted  States,  there  is  none  at  the  present 
time  in  Canada.  However,  two 
schools,  Toronto  and  Western  On¬ 
tario,  have  developed  proposals  for 
doctoral  programs  for  consideration 
by  their  respective  universities.  Dis¬ 
cussions  have  been  held  between  the 
two  schools  and  with  the  University 
of  Ottawa  Library  School  in  order  to 
explore  the  possibility  of  developing 
inter-university  cooperation  in  gra¬ 
duate  instruction  on  a  province-wide 
basis,  particularly  at  the  doctoral 
level.  The  development  of  a  doctoral 


program  will  provide  students  with 
an  opportunity  to  develop  research 
capability.  Graduates  of  such  a  pro¬ 
gram  will  be  able  to  initiate  much 
needed  research  studies  in  librarian- 
ship. 

Students  and  Graduates 
As  one  of  the  long-established  li¬ 
brary  schools  offering  preparation  for 
work  in  academic,  public,  school  and 
special  libraries,  the  School  of  Library 
Science  attracts  students  from  many 
countries.  The  class  of  1969  had  stu¬ 
dents  from  each  of  the  ten  provinces, 
the  North  West  Territories,  Finland, 
Germany,  Great  Britain,  Guyana, 
Hong  Kong,  India,  Israel,  Jamaica, 
Malaysia,  Sweden,  Taiwan,  Trinidad 
and  the  United  States.  Only  eighty 
percent  of  the  class  were  women,  re- 


WESTERN  MBA'S 


the  decision  makers.  Care  to  join  them? 

The  objective  of  the  M.B.A.  Program  at  Western  is  to  develop 
professionally  qualified  managers.  Both  years  of  the  program 
emphasize  the  development  of  skills  in  the  analysis  of  business 
problems  and  decision-making  in  an  organizational  environment. 

If  you  are  interested  in  developing  yourself  for  a  management 
career,  you  are  encouraged  to  write  for  additional  information  to : 

f  Admissions  Secretary, 

School  of  Business  Administration, 
The  University  of  Western  Ontario, 
London  72,  Ontario,  Canada. 


94 


CHARTERED 

ACCOUNTANTS 


^o-rdo-fL  Cif  (~/oo. 

^io/iav/eiiect  S^ccori^UaTi/^ 


Halifax  Saint  John  Quebec  Montreal  Ottawa  Toronto  Hamilton 
Kitchener  London  Windsor  Port  Arthur  Fort  William  Winnipeg 
Regina  Calgary  Edmonton  Vancouver  Victoria 


TOUCHE  ROSS 

&  CO. 


CHARTERED 

ACCOUNTANTS 

Halifax,  Saint  John,  Quebec 
Montreal,  Ottawa,  Toronto 
Hamilton,  Kitchener,  London 
Winnipeg,  Regina,  Saskatoon 
North  Battleford,  Calgary 
Edmonton,  Vancouver,  Victoria 
and  in  Nassau  and  Freeport, 
Bahama  Islands 


THORNE, 

GUNN, 

HELLIWELL 

&  CHRISTENSON  Chartered  Accountants 

Offices  in  centres  across  Canada  including  Victoria,  Vancouver,  Calgary, 
Edmonton,  Saskatoon,  Winnipeg,  Toronto,  Ottawa,  Montreal,  Halifax, 
Saint  John,  and  in  Nassau  and  Freeport  Bahamas;  Bridgetown,  Barbados. 


WINSPEAR,  HIGGINS,  STEVENSON  AND  DOANE 

CHARTERED  ACCOUNTANTS 

Licensed  Trustees — Liquidators — Receivers 
H.  M.  Cootes  W.  R.  Kay 

36  TORONTO  STREET.  TORONTO  1.  CANADA  364-8491 

OFFICES  THROUGHOUT  CANADA 


95 


fleeting  the  fact  that  an  increasing 
number  of  males  are  being  attracted 
into  the  library  profession. 

Since  1937,  when  the  first  degree 
was  awarded,  the  School  of  Library 
Science  has  graduated  more  than 
2300  librarians  or  more  than  45  per¬ 
cent  of  all  the  new  librarians  gra¬ 
duated  in  Canada  during  the  period 
from  1931  to  1969.  Toronto  graduates 
are  to  be  found  on  the  faculty  of 


Export  A 


REGULAR  AND  KINGS 


seven  of  the  eight  Canadian  library 
schools  and  its  alumni  are  in  charge 
of  scores  of  Canadian  academic,  pub¬ 
lic,  special  and  school  libraries.  These 
include  the  university  libraries  at 
Acadia,  Alberta,  Bishop’s,  Montreal, 
Royal  Military  College  at  Kingston, 
St.  Dunstan’s,  St.  Francis  Xavier,  St. 
Michael’s,  Toronto,  Trinity,  Victoria, 
Victoria,  B.C.,  and  Waterloo  Luth¬ 
eran;  public  libraries  in  Halifax, 
Hamilton,  Regina,  Saskatoon,  Toronto 
and  its  five  boroughs,  and  Windsor; 
and  the  Library  of  Parliament,  Ot¬ 
tawa.  Among  its  better  known  gra¬ 
duates  are  Douglas  Fisher,  former 
M.P.  and  Mrs.  Lyn  Cook  Waddell, 
author  of  children’s  books. 

From  a  relatively  unknown  institu¬ 
tion  in  1928  operating  with  a  full¬ 
time  academic  staff  of  two,  a  budget 
of  $10,250,  and  an  enrolment  of  32, 
the  School  of  Library  Science  had 
grown  by  1970  to  a  full-time  aca¬ 
demic  staff  of  22,  an  enrolment  of 
nearly  300  and  a  budget  of  nearly 
$600,000.  For  the  past  four  decades, 
it  has  played  a  prominent  role  in  edu¬ 
cation  for  librarianship  in  Canada.  As 
a  new  decade  begins,  the  School  plans 
to  intensify  its  efforts  to  achieve  aca¬ 
demic  excellence  in  library  education 
and  to  meet  the  professional  needs  of 
Canada’s  5100  libraries. 


MARANI,  ROUNTHWAITE  &  DICK 

ARCHITECTS  AND  PLANNERS 


F.  H.  MARANI,  O.B.E.,  R.C.A.,  F.R.A.I.C. 

R.  A.  DICK,  M.ARCH.,  M.R.A.I.C.,  A.R.I.B.A. 
J.  A.  ROBERTSON,  M.R.A.I.C. 

R.  M.  WILKINSON,  B.ARCH.,  M.R.A.I.C. 

O.  R.  HADLEY,  M.ARCH.,  M.R.A.I.C. 

D.  O.  FREEMAN,  B.ARCH.,  M.R.A.I.C. 


C.  F.  T.  ROUNTHWAITE,  B.ARCH.,  F.R.A.I.C.,  A.R.I.B.A. 
J.  E.  A.  SMITH,  B.ARCH.,  M.R.A.I.C. 

W.  J.  MILHAUSEN,  B.SC.,  P.ENO.,  M.E.I.C. 

J.  M.  OUOULA,  B.ARCH.,  M.R.A.I.C. 

J.  W.  WOOD,  B.ARCH.,  M.R.A.I.C. 

J.  H.  MALION,  D.A.,  M.R.A.I.C.,  A.R.I.B.A. 


96 


White  Paper  proposals  make 
Estate  Planning  MORE  IjRGENT 

Estate  planning  objectives  won’t  change;  people  will  still  wish, 
during  their  lifetime,  to  organize  their  assets  and  direct  their  finan¬ 
cial  growth  in  the  manner  that  will  produce  the  best  results  for 
their  intended  beneficiaries. 

The  plan  that  protected  your  estate  adequately  last  year  may  now 
be  obsolete,  leaving  your  dependents  in  a  very  vulnerable  position. 
There  are  many  ways  to  minimize  the  burden  of  taxation,  both 
now  and  in  the  future. 

Why  not  investigate  our  total  concept  approach  to  your  estate 
planning  requirements  on  an  individual  or  corporate  basis? 

Call  for  a  confidential  interview. 


(  PIPCO  ) 

PLANNED  INSURANCE  PORTFOLIOS 
COMPANY  LIMITED 

Estate  Planning  &  Financial 
Consultants 

789  Don  Mills  Road,  Don  Mills,  Ontario 
Telephone:  429—2647 

K.  D.  Spalding 
V  ice-President 


Lloyd  J.  Rotstein 
General  Manager 


Donald  B.  McKee 
Asst.  Gen.  Manager 
Computer  Services 
Division 


Roy  W.  Craik 
Asst.  Gen.  Manager 
Estate  Planning 
Division 


V.  W.  Semcesen 
Account  Executive 
Insurance  Division 


such  licenses  as  required  sponsored  by  Crown  Life  Insurance  Company 


At  Charlottetown  in 
March,  14  seconds 
from  the  end  of  his 
last  game  for  U  of  T, 
Paul  Laurent  scored 
the  goal  that  won  the 
1970  Canadian  final. 
This  year  (as  last)  the 
Senior  Hockey  Team 
elected  him  “most 
deserving  player  .  He 
is  also  joint  winner 
( with  Theo  Van  Ryn,  a 
swimmer)  of  the  Biggs 
Trophy,  awarded  to  the 
undergraduate  who  has 
contributed  most  to 
athletics  at  U  of  T  in 
terms  of  leadership, 
sportsmanship,  and 
performance.  Paul 
Laurent  is  in  Law  III. 


CANADIAN  CHAMPIONS  for  four  of  the  last  five 
years  and  Ontario-Quebec  champions  for  12  of  the 
last  16,  University  of  Toronto  Blues  have  built  a 
hockey  dynasty  that  will  take  some  beating.  Brian 
St.  John,  1970  captain,  is  at  left  and  Paul  Laurent, 
1969  captain,  below  with  J.  H.  Sword,  the  Executive 
Vice-President  (Academic)  and  Provost  of  the 
University.  See  page  3.